


Huginn and Muninn (Memory and Mind)

by daphnerunning, Galiko



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:52:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7084567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galiko/pseuds/Galiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the span of a week, Kagehira Mika gains a place in the top unit of Yumenosaki Academy, a new place to live, and possibly a couple of friends. Itsuki Shu gains a roommate, and something to strive for. Tenshouin Eichi gains a target. </p><p>The story of Mika joining Valkyrie in his first year, and the way the pieces land when it all falls apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Valkyrie is the top unit in Yumenosaki Academy. Valkyrie is perfect, Valkyrie is strong, and Valkyrie doesn’t need any new members. Other units have up to seven members, but none of them can compare against Valkyrie, his perfect, pure masterpiece, the one thing that will purify this sullied world of everything filthy, leaving only himself and his chosen beloved left in the glistening aftermath.

 

But Nito, his pure, lovely, sparkling Nito, had been absolutely right--Valkyrie needs to attend the inaugural event of the school year, where the new students choose groups. There’s a crowd, and Itsuki Shu _hates_ that, but at least Nito is near him, smelling sweet and looking like the loveliest marionette, strings firmly affixed to his fingers. Nito is a bit quiet today, even more than usual. Well, that’s to be expected. They’d had a Live on TV the evening before, followed by a television interview that he’d somehow managed not to mangle, and Nito sometimes tends to get overtired. His little body isn’t entirely hardy, though his dancing is exquisite.

 

A boy runs up to bow in front of him, standing under the banner he’d begrudgingly hung up. The boy knows he’s handsome, dark-haired and slick, with high cheekbones and an easy grin. He’s got muscles from long years of playing sports, and a speech all prepared. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been a fan of Valkyrie, and I think I’d be a valuable addition to--”

 

“ _Non_.”

 

The boy looks up, startled. “Is there an exam, or--”

 

“You’ve already failed. I don’t need you. Move along.”

 

Injured, dejected, the boy shuffles off to whatever his next choice had been, and Shu smirks in Nito’s direction. “Perhaps I was wrong, Nito. Perhaps this will be an amusing way to spend some time after all. Ah, have you eaten? Your skin looks pale--you aren’t feeling ill, are you? _Non_ , absolutely not,” he snaps at another boy, running up to bow in front of him. “Entirely rejected!”

 

Nito stares up at him, large-eyed and bored. _That isn’t the point of this_ , he nearly points out, but instead sighs, glancing aside and plopping his chin down into one hand, staring out across the crowds and trying not to start counting the rejects that will, undoubtedly, pile up. 

 

Skulking amongst the crowds are the average, the already-rejected, and the occasional…weirdo, that probably shouldn’t be sulking. Shu has really particular taste, though; Nito knows that well, and so he doesn’t remark on anyone that looks particularly average, or particularly messy and strange—which is ultimately why a good thirty minutes pass without success, and Nito starts to doze off, until someone looks particularly _weird_.

 

“Oshi-san,” he murmurs, tapping Shu’s elbow. “Weird eyes. Look.” Never mind that the pair of eyes is attached to a boy that won’t even look at them after one hurried, wary glance, and is in fact now hunched over, desperately attempting to just make his way through and leave.  

 

“Oh? Oh. Ohhh,” Shu breathes suddenly, eyebrows snapping together as he stares at the boy Nito points out. “Nito...lovely Nito, you do know my tastes entirely too well, don’t you? Of course you do, such a shining gem...” His hand brushes gently over Nito’s cheek, then pats him absently on the shoulder as he turns to the strange, hunched boy. 

 

He’s beautiful, certainly. Even better, he doesn’t seem to know how beautiful he is, which Shu vastly prefers in a boy. He’s on the shorter side, with sweet round cheeks and enormous, mismatched eyes peeking out under tousled black hair. Unlike the other sycophants, this boy is hurrying past the best and worst units alike (everyone but Valkyrie is The Worst), hardly looking up. “Oi! You! With the unusual eyes and vacant expression, come here!” What’s with his sleeves? The hems have been torn out, as if the boy had yanked at them so often he’d ripped the threads. What an odd thing to have done.

 

Nito stares, bemused as the boy in question bolts like a spooked animal, shying away like a dog that’s been threatened with a kick. “Eh?” He looks around somewhat frantically, as if hoping someone else is being called to, but the eyes must be a dead giveaway, and he warily looks back at Shu, even as he nervously smoothes part of his bangs over his left eye— _blue, weird,_ Nito thinks. “Ah—sorry, I was jus’ leavin’—“ _And so Kansai, wow._

 

Shu folds his arms, a confident smile on his face as he beckons the boy over. Not that he needs another member of Valkyrie--he and Nito are perfect, the auteur and his cherished muse, but something about this boy... “Nonsense. You’re here to be an idol, aren’t you? Come, let me look at you. Ah, did you put the wrong one in this morning?” he asks, bemused as he stares at the eye the boy is trying so hard to hide. His hands reach out, plucking at the ragged sleeves, the slightly crusty points of hair that mean this boy falls asleep and drools on public transportation, the slender muscles under the school uniform--nothing is safe from his measuring fingers. 

 

“Um—“ The boy gulps, stark still even though he clearly wants to bolt, unsure about what to do when he’s being poked and prodded at. “N-no, my..my eyes are jus’ like that,” he mumbles, glancing down at the ground. “I don’t…I d-didn’t enroll in th’ idol courses. ‘m not that good, I don’t think…”

 

“Name,” Nito quietly prompts, tapping his way through his tablet screen.

 

The boy jumps again, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced before that Nito was a real human and not a mannequin. “Ah—um—K…Kagehira. Kagehira—“ He swallows, and finishes unhappily, “Mika.”

 

Nothing comes up in the search results of school records. “…’Mi’ like—“

 

“No. ’s hiragana.”

 

Ah. Nito tries again, and his eyebrows raise as he passes the tablet over to Shu, letting him see Mika’s initial scores for himself.

 

“Why are you distracting me with this? I--oh, thank you, Nito. Ah, such a sweet, darling thing you are.” Shu picks up the tablet, flipping through quickly, then passes it back. He straightens up to his full height, folding his hands behind his back, and walks all the way around Kagehira, looking him penetratingly up and down. “Arm up--no, out, like this. Leave it there.” He examines the joints carefully, each little knuckle and wrinkle fascinating--other men may not know how easy it is to manipulate by understanding, but Itsuki Shu does. “Vocal training?”

 

Even though he stands there, stiff as a board with his arm out, Mika looks all the world like he wants to try and escape. Nito _would_  like to try and see him outrun Itsuki Shu. “I—w-well, there was a lady at my mom’s work, when she used to take me with her, and she helped me some…” He laughs nervously. “She said she was gonna be famous before stuff happened, but I dunno if that’s real or not…”

 

“No training,” Shu murmurs to himself, perfectly audibly. “Nito, write this down. Good wrists. Legs need work.”

 

Head in hand, Nito starts a list.

 

“U-um,” Mika attempts again. “Like I said, I wasn’t even gonna enroll in the idol course, so I probably should go—“

 

“Don’t open your mouth if you’re only going to let nonsense escape.” Shu plucks more, fingers searching without lingering. “Abdominal training immediately. Good vocal tone. Obviously no real sense of balance. Ah, I’ve got my work cut out for me, haven’t I?” He taps a finger against his lips, appraising, then finally nods. “Very well. Of course you’ll enroll in the idol course--what was it, Kagehira? You must be in the idol course if you’re to be a member of Valkyrie.”

 

“Ba…Varu…” 

 

Nito opens his mouth as if to correct him, then thinks better of it, and keeps writing. 

 

“Val…kyri…? Did I say that right?” Mika warily echoes, rocking back on his heels once Shu stops poking at him, and stumbles back for a bit of grateful distance. He hurriedly smoothes his hair back over one eye, and starts pulling out another bit of thread from one of the split hems around his wrists. “Heh, um, I’m really honored, but I dunno if I’m…I mean, you both look _really_  cool, I’m sooo not good enough.”

 

Shu’s eyes narrow on Kagehira’s sleeves for a moment, then snap up to his face. “Are you arguing with me?” he asks, as if he’d never considered the possibility and isn’t very fond of it. “That won’t do. Take a cue from Nito--look how beautiful he is! And he isn’t arguing with me at all. He knows I’m a genius. So, tres bien! Practice is every day before and after school. We work harder than any other unit, because we’re far better than they are in every way. I’ll have your first costume finished by the end of the week. Six am in the morning, be punctual!”

 

“That’s _so_  early,” Mika squeaks, taking another hurried step back. “How am I suppose t—“

 

“Wake up early,” Nito deadpans.

 

“Well, I mean, _yeah_ , but—“

 

Getting nothing but stares from Nito and glares from Shu is kind of terrifying. “O…okay,” Mika weakly agrees, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll try real hard.”

 

Shu gives him a look that to most people would be inscrutable. Then it turns intense, and his breath comes more quickly, color suffusing his cheeks. “You’re what we’re missing,” he says softly, eyes traveling a swift distance in a single instant, to their next, bigger stage, this time with two perfect dolls dancing to his tune. This one rounds them out--odd and adorable all at once, with potential brimming full inside him, desperately needing a talented hand to bring it out--and there’s no hand more talented than that of one Itsuki Shu. “Look around, Kagehira. These vulgar masses--every one of them wishes they were you, right now. I’ll tune you up perfectly, until you’re dancing to the tunes in my head. Hmm, hmmm, hmm ♪--can you hear it, Kagehira? Nito, darling Nito, my beauty--you hear it, don’t you? You always have, haven’t you?”

 

Nito hops up from where he’s sitting, saying nothing to that, and gives Mika a short, dismissive bow of his head. “Nazuna Nito,” he softly introduces. “Nice to meet you.” 

 

“Nazuna-ch—“

 

“Nazuna-nii.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Nito straightens, and glares. “I’m a _second year_.” _And a boy_ , goes unsaid, but not unheard. 

 

Mika swallows hard, and nods, quickly and firmly. “Uh, y-yeah, right. Got it. Nazuna-nii.”

 

Nito points a finger at Shu as a manner of introduction. “Oshi-san.” His lisp comes out more than ever then, and he represses a sigh about it as he closes Shu’s notepad, and sticks it in his blazer pocket. 

 

It’s not a manner of address to be taken lightly, apparently. 

 

A mentor Shu definitely is, but more accurately, a slavedriver…sort of. Mika supposes it’s not so bad the first day, because he doesn’t know what to expect, and throws himself into practice wholeheartedly. Shu yells a lot, snaps a lot, always chides him and tells him that he’s terrible, but he’s never really mean about it. It’s not like he says he sucks and then doesn’t tell him how to fix it, which is the most terrifying thing in Mika’s mind, so even if he’s exhausted after practice, the giddy feeling that _I’m gonna be an idol!_ remains.

 

The second day, he’s tired, but still hanging on, and the third, he’s on the floor.

 

Nito is late that morning, too, and Mika takes the time that Shu spends huffing about this to slowly sprawl out on the practice room floor, bunching his blazer up into a pillow and faceplanting into it. _I’ll never be an idol_ , he laments. It’s too hard, too much, he’s not good enough, and for a group like Valkyrie—which he’s done some reading on now, and he’s more than kinda scared about it—there’s no way he can keep up. Sleeping sounds good. Sleeping sounds better than being an idol.

 

Itsuki Shu’s low-heeled boots click on the floor over to where the new boy, Kagehira, lies facedown. Worry--no, not worry, it must just be intense concern for the future of Valkyrie--makes him crouch down instead of toeing the boy with his boot. “Kagehira. Don’t just sleep, idiot. Why are you so tired? What have you done to yourself, stayed up all night with _friends_?” It’s clear he considers this idea to be a dirty word.

 

Mika whimpers, refusing to lift his head to the cruel light of the room and Shu’s critical gaze. His eyes are too heavy for him to open them, anyway. “Nooo. Don’t have any friends, Oshi-san, promise.” He hugs his jacket tighter. “Jus’ five minutes, I’m beggin’ you.”

 

Shu reaches out and grabs one leg, briskly arranging Mika’s limbs, touching them for any signs of strain, sprain, bruises, or anything else ghastly and unsightly. “I wouldn’t put it past a defect like you to have overworked yourself,” he muses, “but your body seems to be fine. In better working order than I anticipated, actually. Why aren’t you sleeping, Kagehira? If you think I’m asking out of concern for your well-being, you’re stupider than I thought.”

 

Even after three days, Mika has become strangely accustomed to being regularly accosted by Itsuki Shu. It’s fairly clinical at its core, not scary like Mika had thought it was that first day, and so he remains limply facedown and unfazed. “I can’t sleep on the train,” he miserably explains. “I’ve been _tryin’_ , but I suck at sleepin’ when other people are lookin’ at me, and that’s all they do, for _three hours…”_

 

_“Three hours?”_ Shu stares, flabbergasted, until it makes sense. Then, he hates it. “That’s unnecessary and utterly absurd. You’ll sleep at my house tonight, if you can stomach such a thing.”

 

Mika cracks open an eye at that, and turns his head, warily looking up at Shu. “R…really? But—I don’t wanna impose like that.” The idea of going to Shu’s home—elegant, dignified, _clearly_  rich Shu—is terrifying. What are his parents like? Scary, probably, and they wouldn’t want someone like him coming in and bumping into things and generally _being_  there. Worse, Shu’s dad is probably there, and is probably taller, and that alone makes Mika shudder. With a groan, he slowly heaves himself up into a sitting position, blinking blearily and scrubbing at his eyes with the back of one hand. “I’ll try t’ get more sleep later, ’s fine. I’m up, I’m up.” 

 

Kagehira probably thinks that spells the end of the conversation. So does Shu. And after school, after Valkyrie’s grueling afternoon practice, Shu simply picks up Kagehira’s bag and starts walking away from the train station towards his house. “Keep up, Kagehira. And remember the route, if there’s room in the fluff you have for brains for directions!”

 

It takes a second for the situation to click in Mika’s mind, and he tries not to panic once it does. “Ah! Oshi-san—“ he protests, hurrying after him, tripping over the plucked-free hems of his school trousers in the process. “Oshi-san, I really—I mean, I reeeally appreciate th’ offer, it’s sooo nice of you, b-but I think I’ll jus’ take my chances with the train!” _Even though it’s wearing down my savings fast, and I don’t know how much longer I can survive going that far every day._  “I’ll get some ear plugs and an eye mask or somethin’, please give me my bag back…”

 

“Someone like you doesn’t have money for the train,” Shu states plainly, now that they’re away from the school and won’t be overheard--not that that makes a difference to him, of course. If Kagehira wants to be anxious about such a thing, it makes no difference to him. “I require my beautiful dolls to be in perfect working order. It isn’t far to my house, keep up--your legs aren’t that short, are they? Ugh, these crowds are horrific. This is why I hate going home at this time of day.” 

 

Unbidden, one of his hands comes up to sort of shield his face from the surrounding crowds, and he stumbles slightly, trying to get his side to the wall before he’s swept away by the after-work rush of salarymen in dark suits flooding the streets. Too many, there are too many, they’re going to knock him to the ground and drag him away, pressing in all around him, breathing, staring--

 

“Oshi-san? Oshi-san, are you all right?” 

 

Unthinkingly, Mika grabs Shu’s arm, hauling him to the side out of the rush of the oncoming crowds. His own heart is pounding, but it’s a dull, secondary worry to how close Shu looked to passing out. He’s pale and drawn and that’s _scary_ , because he really doesn’t think he can carry someone as tall as Shu without dropping him if he _does_  end up fainting or something. He swallows nervously, stretching up on tiptoe to get a better look at Shu’s face. “You’re not gonna die, are you? I don’t like big crowds either, really scary, I’m really sorry for makin’ you go home this time of day…”

 

“Stop apologizing,” Shu gasps, plucking at the ruffles on his jabot, staggering out of the crowds with Kagehira’s help. He manages to stumble quickly to the end of the street, grabbing at Kagehira’s ratty sleeve, until he can turn down an appropriate alleyway and finally catch his breath. “I, ah, I don’t like crowds. Not that I need to explain myself to you, but...whatever! Don’t look at me that way, failure. It’s just up ahead. And thank you for dragging me out of there, though you should have been more gentle on my sleeves. I sewed this myself, you know.”

 

“Sorry,” Mika apologizes again, even though he’s been told not to. He follows just after Shu’s heels, staring at his back with something akin to awe. “I don’t like crowds at all either,” he murmurs. “I didn’t think…the leader of Valkyrie would be like that. I never thought I could be an idol if I sucked at dealin’ with people being everywhere…ahh, you’re so cool, Oshi-san…”

 

“Don’t stare, Kagehira. Ah, I suppose you deserve some recognition for your hard work so far, so I will accept your praise.” Shu retrieves an ordinary-looking key on an ornate keychain from his pocket, opening the front door to an odd, rickety-looking house. 

 

The front room is like something out of the height of style from thirty years ago, with every pillow fluffed, every surface decorated with doilies. Despite being immaculately dust-free, it doesn’t look _lived-in_. An open room to the left leads into the kitchen--far more occupied--and to the right, a room packed full of antique dolls, all arranged to stare at the doorway. “I assume you know how to prepare tea,” Shu says into the silence, rubbing his hands together. “Busy yourself with that, I have something for you upstairs. Wait here.”

 

For a moment, Mika just stands in the doorway, staring around and taking in the fact that he’s surrounded by dozens upon dozens of creepy faces, all staring at him. And then—“This is _so_  cool,” he whispers, hurriedly toeing off his shoes and darting further into the house as he pulls the door shut behind himself. “ _So_  cool. Oshi-san! Oshi-san, your dolls are all really cute!” 

 

Even the tea kettle is antique, not the cheap, electric kind that Mika’s used to, but it’s so _cool_  that he doesn’t mind, and a second’s worth of fiddling helps him figure it out. “I really like your house!” he calls up the stairs, and then flinches, realizing he’s being loud. Shit, if Shu’s parents are home, he’s in trouble.

 

“You think so?” Shu’s voice is far louder, though it doesn’t echo at all in the house with soft goods, packed full to each wall with antiques. “Hahaha! Of course you’d have good taste in this. They’re mostly antiques. None of them are younger than fifty years old!”

 

_Ah, okay, they must not be home, then._ “Really? That’s sooo cool!” Mika trots out of the kitchen, peering around at all of the dolls. “They’re all really cute. And creepy. But that’s the best, y’know? I like the way they stare at me,” he muses, reaching out to gingerly touch the curling red hair of one doll. “Better than people, they ain’t got anythin’ to say.”

 

Shu emerges from the stairway, a stack of clothing in his hand, face stricken. “Be careful! She’s very old, you know. She’s worth more than someone like you could make in a year--no, in _ten_ years, you worthless creature.” Then he dumps the clothes in Mika’s hands with a huff. “See if those suit you. I altered your school uniform to be more in keeping with your aesthetic.”

 

Mika snatches his hand away automatically, only to have clothes deposited in his arms in short order. He blinks up at Shu, confusion stark across his face. “You…eh? What aesthetic, Oshi-san?”

 

Without waiting for permission, Shu strips Mika’s blazer off, then starts working on unbuttoning his shirt. “Honestly, haven’t you only had this for a week? It’s good for nothing but scrap. I can’t believe you paid for this and you’ve destroyed it already. Of course, the standard-issue uniforms are never well-made. I never wear them myself. Go on, put these on, do I have to do everything for you?” _Because I will_ , is the unconscious addendum.

 

“I can do it, I can do it!” Mika squeaks, taking a hurried step back and fumbling with the buttons of his own sweater vest and the shirt underneath it. “I dunno why I always do that, I just like longer hems. My mom’s sister used to think it looked cute when I hid behind ‘em, I guess.” 

 

He gingerly picks up the first shirt, tugging it on and buttoning it up. “…You really made this, Oshi-san? You’re right, it’s so much nicer than the ones you get at school.” His sleeve flops properly over his hand, and Mika fiddles with it, a mix of pleasure and awe on his face.

 

Shu hides a little smile behind his hand, then turns and walks into the kitchen, leaving Kagehira alone with his newly-long hems. “That’s much more suited for you, you see. Obviously, I know best when it comes to these things. Let me know if you get too warm with those arm covers. I can make them out of lighter material if necessary.”

 

“Uh uh, I like ‘em a lot! I get cold a lot, see, so it really works!” Next is his sweater— _also_  much longer, definitely should be tucked in and that’s _not_  gonna happen now—and Mika sighs happily, fiddling with them a moment longer before trotting after Shu into the kitchen. “Thanks so much, Oshi-san! Ahhh, I dunno what I can do to repay you…”

 

“Stop coming to practices exhausted,” Shu says firmly, and opens a cabinet, pulling out a rice cooker and plugging it in, then opening a drawer to reveal a pink, ruffled apron which he shakes out and ties around his waist. He’s been over Kagehira’s file, and already knows he doesn’t have food allergies. “You can go watch television or do your homework if you like. Just don’t hover over me while I’m cooking.” 

 

“I can help, if you want…” But that’s clearly not gonna happen, and Shu looks _ready_ , complete with an apron and everything. “Is it…is it okay if I go and practice?” Mika fiddles with his newly long sleeves, unable to stop touching them. “I dunno if it would annoy you to keep hearin’ me sing stuff wrong or not, but I wanna get as good as you and Nazuna-nii fast.”

 

“Fool, you think you’ll become as good as Nito by practicing a bit? Will you also practice being short?” Shu sniffs, retrieving a few vegetables from the refrigerator. “Just practice what I tell you to. You’re improving quickly, I suppose, which isn’t surprising given your previous lack of training.” 

 

He waves a hand towards the doll room. “Through there, no one will hear you. I live alone, you see.” The knife comes down in quick, even slices through a daikon.

 

“I dunno, maybe you can sit stuff on my head and I’ll shrink…” Mika muses aloud, unfazed by the criticism and more fascinated by: “You live alone? Really? Oshi-san, you’re so cool. I’d be scared to live alone. I bet your parents live somewhere fancy overseas, huh?” 

 

“Overseas, ha!” Shu dumps the daikon haphazardly into the rice cooker with a cup of washed rice, then starts dicing chestnuts. “They live two train stops away. This...” He looks around, fingers brushing over the antique ladle hanging next to his station, over the worn bamboo cutting board. “This was my grandmother’s house. When she passed, they wanted to sell it, but...” He shrugs. “It was right next to the school I chose, so I promised to be the caretaker in exchange for keeping it. She and I...were two of a kind, I suppose. Quite mad, towards the end, but she had good taste. We didn’t actually get along very well, but she still left this place to me, so perhaps she liked me more than I liked her.” 

 

He shakes his head, dumping the chestnuts into the rice cooker. “You’ve made me babble.”

 

“No, no, that’s so cool!” Mika’s eyes are sparkling, and he tries not to hover, he does, but he’s still standing pretty close to Shu all the same. “You’re still in high school but you get to have a creepy old house like this full of cute dolls? Luuucky. I wish my grandma was like that, but she’s just cranky. Did she teach you how to sew, Oshi-san? You’re so good at it.” He’s probably never going to take these clothes off at this rate.

 

“Mm, no. She was useless that way--none of my family knows anything useful.” Kagehira’s words sink in, and Shu flicks on the rice cooker, then jerks his head. “Follow me. I’ll teach you to sew.”

 

Mika blinks rapidly. “Wh…really? I mean, I used to sew together the holes my stuffed animals would get…but I’m probably doin’ it wrong…” The nice lady that taught him how to do that probably taught him wrong, just like he’s learned the nice lady that taught him how to sing didn’t teach him entirely right, which is disconcerting, but not discouraging, now that he’s got a _proper_  teacher.

 

“I’m sure you are. Actually, wait here, I’ll bring the needles and some practice materials.” His sewing room is a bit too sacred for that kind of thing, just yet.

 

Instead he fetches a half-completed dress for one of his dolls, and a sleeve for a Valkyrie costume that should really be thrown away, from before he’d put on those last few inches. “Sit, Kagehira. You know how to thread a needle or not?”

 

Mika plops down immediately, nodding his head. “I know how to do that much. Ah, that’s pretty—did you make a lot of the doll dresses, too? Kinda looks like some of the stuff Nazuna-nii wears…” 

 

Shu beams, chest puffing up. “You noticed! Ah, you can see his perfect beauty, can’t you? That lovely face, those elegant little legs, that sweet cool expression he has--I wish I could make him smile more. Ah, but yes, I made all of the doll dresses you see. I’ve been making these for, oh, six or so years now? Here, thread this. I tatted all the lace for the doilies around here myself, too.” Most sixteen-year-old boys aren’t quite as proud as Shu is of all of his lace tatting.

 

“Nazuna-nii is very pretty,” Mika obligingly agrees, knowing better after only a few days of being around Shu than to get too deep into it, otherwise Shu will just keep _going_  about it. It’s the one thing he doesn’t really know how to respond to—is that just something people talk about so casually up in the north? Is he the weird one? He’d get _punched_  for talking about another guy like that, though he’s kind of envious of Shu’s ability to just go on and on about it without even blinking. He threads the needle in short order, awaiting his next instruction. “You’re really good at this kinda stuff, Oshi-san. I’m surprised you’re in an idol school, and not just wantin’ to make this kinda thing a career.” 

 

“Sewing...is my favorite hobby,” Shu says, after a moment of thought. He threads his own needle, binding off into a sewer’s knot before launching into his project, pinprick-tiny backstitches that look as if they came out of the world’s most precise machine. “Try stitching that sleeve back together, I want to see what I’m working with. Hmm, the problem with sewing is that it’s skill, but without as much artistry as I’m capable of. As an idol...no, I’m more than an idol. I’m an artist, completely. You’ve seen that by now. No one can match the content I produce, no one at all. Even my friends have admitted it--they don’t go against me, because to go against me is to go against my costumes, my dancing, my singing, my _writing_ , my orchestrations, my props--and even if they could defeat one of them, all of them together are indestructible.” 

 

He smiles to himself, hemming the doll’s dress. “Also, I want to be admired and praised. I deserve adulation, even from the masses I despise.”

 

“...Has anyone ever told y’that you’re kinda intimidatin’?” Mika says with a laugh, turning the sleeve over in his hold and sort of shrugging to himself, knowing he’s going to get snapped at for doing it wrong either way, because undoubtedly, even if it’s right, Shu’s got a _particular_ kind of right. His stitching isn’t _ever_ gonna be as perfect as Shu’s looks, Mika’s pretty sure of that, but oh well. Time to try anyway. “I’ve been watchin’ some of Valkyrie’s past stuff. You do deserve to be on top, you’re right.” 

 

Shu’s eyes fairly sparkle, the needle jabbing quickly in and out of the fabric. Doll clothes are soothing, something he knows he can design and execute perfectly. It’s a far cry from what’s currently pinned to his dressform upstairs, hanging in chiffon ruffles and drops of golden silk. That project...fights him. This reminds him that he’s a genius. “Right? Ah, yes, I’m going to grant you permission to praise me at will, Kagehira. I don’t give that out lightly, so you should feel very proud that I consider your opinion to be worth something, as lacking in other ways as you are. Your stitching--don’t try to make it as small as mine. Just keep it as even as possible. If it’s larger, it’ll look like a decorative stitch. If it’s small, it’ll disappear.”

 

Mika nods, quickly changing tactics as directed. “It’s okay, Oshi-san, I’ll always find something to praise you about,” he hums happily, content with not being scolded just yet. “I think you’re really cool. Ah, aren’t you the president of th’ handicrafts club, too? _And_ you’re the leader of the best group in school...and you’re only a second year! I dunno why y’picked me to fix up when you’re that awesome and Nazuna-nii is so cute...” 

 

“It’s intelligent of you to know your failings,” Shu says sharply, “but don’t question my decisions, Kagehira. Obviously I am a talented genius and Nito, lovely Nito is beautiful beyond all compare, but...” He pauses, contemplative, and plucks absently at one stray curl in the center of Kagehira’s forehead. “You do have a certain...something. That’s what Valkyrie is, you know--the vengeful goddess that plucks out the worthy and lifts them to a higher existence. I’ve chosen you as one of the deserving, so be grateful.” He pauses, then adds, “And join the handicrafts club, I’ll teach you more about sewing and you can make cute and creepy things to your heart’s content, haha!”

 

Mika feels his face flush hot, and he quickly looks down at his stitching again, thankful he caught himself before he goes too far off track. “O-okay. I’ll join.” _Then it means I get to spend more time with you._ He stabs himself with the needle, ignores it, and blushes harder. “I’m really happy y’think I’ve got...somethin’, Oshi-san. I promise I’ll try really hard not to let you down.” 

 

“Doubtless you’ll let me down anyway. I...” Shu tugs the needle through a seam, feeling the eye snag slightly on the delicate fabric, and his lips tighten in irritation. “I let myself down, sometimes. But Valkyrie will endure our failings. Especially yours, I suppose.” 

 

The latch of the rice cooker pops up, and Shu fastens off his seam with a careful _snick_ of the thread before standing, filling two bowls, one much higher than the other, and places the full one in front of Kagehira, followed by a pair of chopsticks and an antique silver chopstick rest. His own bowl is about a quarter of the way full, and he slides into his seat, carefully tucking up the dress where no stray droplet can reach. “Eat, you’re still growing. As much as I’d like to keep you small and cute forever, you look like you’ve been stunted enough.”

 

“Ahh, Oshi-san, you think I’m small and cute!” Mika might be sparkling now, especially when offered food, and he quickly ties off his own stitching to snatch up his bowl. “My dad’s really tall but I’m like this, he always says ‘m stunted,” he sighs, stuffing rice into his mouth with great glee. “I hope I don’t get too tall, though. I mean, being short sometimes means people think ‘m a girl, ‘specially with my name, but if ‘m too tall that would be weird...ahh, sorry, ‘m ramblin’. Is that seriously all you’re gonna eat, Oshi-san?” 

 

“I dislike eating,” Shu says with a sigh. He picks at the rice, popping it in his mouth a few grains at a time before swallowing. Most of his bowl is chestnuts and peas--that will be enough protein to keep him running. “My body sometimes has averse reactions to consuming anything but water, unfortunately, so I have to be discerning in my intake.” He chews, swallowing with a grimace, following the food with a large glass of cold water. “Have you decided on a signature yet, Kagehira? You’ll take the stage at the end of the month, so if you’ve slacked on that part of being an idol, it’ll be disappointing.”

 

“Not _yet_ ,” Mika hedges, half-way through his bowl and already feeling his chopsticks hitting the bottom of it. “But I’ll figure it out, promise. I hope I don’t freak out when we have a show,” he frets, chasing one of his peas around. “I’ve never been in front of that many people...does it bother you at all, Oshi-san? I know y’don’t like crowds, either...”

 

Shu looks at Kagehira for a second, then picks up his bowl, refilling it from the rice cooker. “I do hate crowds, and I cannot abide the feeling of the vulgar mass of unworthy people staring at me. It...well. You feel the same, don’t you? You understand the weight of those gazes, as if they have any right to judge. The secret is in the lights.” His eyes mist briefly as he sets the newly-full bowl in front of Kagehira. “I design it specially so that the placement of the lights keeps anyone onstage from seeing the audience, while illuminating us perfectly. Don’t go spreading that around, or everyone would copy me.”

 

Mika breathes out a long sigh of relief, distracted enough by that relief that he doesn’t even immediately acknowledge his food. “That’s soooo smart, Oshi-san. I hate when people look at me, see. They’re always lookin’ at my eyes, and I can just tell they’re grossed out...” He grabs for his bowl again, letting the steam from the rice raise up and onto his face. “I thought I’d never be able to be an anythin’ ‘cuz of that, but you’re so smart...ahh, I’m so glad _you_ picked me, I woulda just given up and gone home...” 

 

“No one else has any eye for talent or potential. Don’t pay any attention to anyone like that, Kagehira. If you start lowering your head to the unwashed cretins that make up the general populace, Valkyrie will get a bad name.” Shu’s eyes burn suddenly intense, one hand tightening on his chopsticks, the other reaching out to grab Mika’s wrist, though not hard enough to bruise. “You--we are _better_ than they are, Kagehira. Don’t ever forget that, even for a second. You are part of something more incredible than they could ever imagine.”

 

Mika’s mouth parts, and he nods rapidly as his skin heats up, his eyes averting to the ground. “After seein’ the stuff you can do, I believe it,” he murmurs, swallowing, his fingers trembling as he works up the nerve...and finally grabs Shu’s hand back, squeezing over it where it grips his wrist. “I _promise_ I’ll practice real hard and make y’proud, Oshi-san,” he vehemently says, nervous when he looks up to meet Shu’s gaze, but trying all the same. “We’ll be really awesome together, yeah?” 

 

Shu’s intensity fades into a pleased little smile, and he pulls back, patting Kagehira on the head. “You’re a good enough boy, I suppose. But I’ll make you better. Just do as I say, and you’ll never taste defeat at my side. And finish your peas, you’re too skinny.”

 

_He patted my head, he patted my head!_ Mika struggles not to dissolve into a puddle, and instead settles upon quickly doing as he’s told, downing his peas in short order. “Y...y’know Oshi-san,” he begins carefully. “Sometimes, when ‘m not super into eatin’, I like to eat only my favorite stuff...which, uh, in my case, I’ve got a bad sweet tooth. What’s your favorite?” 

 

“Croissants,” Shu answers promptly. “But alas, my own endeavors into baking them has ended in what I suppose most people would call failure.” He also calls it failure, but not verbally. He finishes up his bowl, then moves back towards the sink, taking out a few ingredients and measuring them into a bowl, then preheating the oven. “Ah, that reminds me, I want to introduce you to my favorite doll, Mademoiselle. She’s a very special little girl. I don’t let just anyone look at her, you know!”

 

Mika makes the biggest mental note that he’s ever made (probably) and nods as he hops up, bringing his bowl to the sink after destroying what’s left of it. “Okay! I bet she’s gorgeous if she’s your favorite, Oshi-san. Oh, d’you want me to do the dishes? I’m pretty good at cleanin’ stuff.” 

 

“Not just yet, I’m making more dirty dishes. Mm, I suppose you can be trusted to retrieve her--Mademoiselle is the one in the doll room on the center chair. Go fetch her, she’s wearing the Valkyrie outfit.” And most importantly, that will get Kagehira out of the room for a moment while he finishes up the cake batter. Fortunately, the boy doesn’t seem to notice things unless they’re explicitly spelled out for him, so he might manage to pull this off as a surprise yet. “She’s very old, so if you break her it’ll take you a hundred years to work off the debt.”

 

Saddled with that much responsibility, Mika has to reorient himself so as to not panic. “R-right. Got it, I promise I won’t break her.”

 

Mika escapes the kitchen to the aforementioned doll room, and Mademoiselle, at least, is unmistakable. Shu’s not _wrong_ \--she’s gorgeous, with perfect golden girls and her outfit is decked out in enough black lace and red ruffles that Mika feels jealous. With a deep breath, Mika gently lifts her, holding her as delicately as he would an actual human baby. “She’s _so_ pretty, Oshi-san,” Mika calls, making his way back to the kitchen. “You make the prettiest clothes. Ahh, I wonder what I’d...” He trails off, flushing at his stupidity, and shuts his mouth. 

 

Shu looks up from popping the cake secretively in the oven, dumping mixing bowls and measuring spoons in the sink. “Yes, you’re holding her well--those clothes suit her, don’t they? She has such an easy figure to flatter. And such a charming face, I know you agree. I have at least a dozen outfits for her in particular, somewhere around here. Perhaps we’ll have a fashion show later. Do you collect dolls at all, Kagehira? I didn’t expect such refinement from you.”

 

“I wish I could,” Mika laments, carefully brushing one of the doll’s curls out of her face. “I always liked ‘em, but I woulda gotten in trouble if I had one. It’s okay, I can jus’ admire yours. They’re way prettier than anythin’ I would’ve had. Ah...I wanted to ask, also...is it seriously okay that you want me to stay here? I know your parents aren’t here, but...Nazuna-nii won’t get jealous or anythin’, will he?” _Is that the kind of relationship they have?_ It’s hard to tell, honestly, and Mika’s so very not used to two _guys_ being open about that kind of thing. 

 

Shu stares in utter incomprehension for a moment. “Nito? Well, doubtless he’d like to live in such an amazing place full of dolls as well, I’m sure, but like hell I’d let such a dirty creature as a pet rabbit around my dolls. Those things smell. And don’t be stupid, you can keep any dolls or whatever here that you want. There’s plenty of storage space, and if we run out, I’ll chuck my grandmother’s things in the garbage.”

 

Oookay. Maybe off the mark still. Maybe a one-sided thing? Mika decides to contemplate this more heavily later, and instead decides to get super excited about the prospect of being able to actually _keep_ things. “You mean I could actually keep my stuffed animals here?” His eyes are sparkling, and he clutches at Mademoiselle before remembering to be careful, and offering her to Shu to hold instead. “That would be _so_ cool. Y’know, Oshi-san, everyone says you’re scary, but you’re _really_ spoilin’ me.”

 

“Don’t be absurd, I’m not spoiling you. I would never do something so ridiculous. I’m every bit as terrifying as they say.” The oven dings, and Shu grabs a mitt, pulling the little ramekins out, sliding one in front of Kagehira and grabbing a spoon. “Don’t burn your mouth, it’s hot. I assume you like strawberry cake.”

 

Mika plops down immediately, settling Mademoiselle next to him and smoothing her skirts before trying not to die happy and probably cry into his cake. “I love _all_ cake,” he sniffs, grabbing his spoon. “Oshi-san, you’re the _best_. No one’s ever baked me cake before!” 

 

“Then you’re simply overdue. Don’t make a big deal out of it, it’s not like I did it because I care or anything. I just need you to be a certain...I just need you to fit into the Valkyrie costumes in a certain way.” The costumes that he hasn’t made yet. Of course. “And if no one ever has, then you’re simply overdue and shouldn’t be talking instead of eating, fool.” His cheeks might be a little pink, but that’s just from the heat of the oven.

 

Piping hot or not, Mika shovels cake into his mouth like it’s his mission in life. He’s had a lot of cake in his life, and this one _is_ a little burnt at the edges, but that doesn’t stop him from devouring it. “If you keep makin’ me cakes ‘n stuff, I’m gonna get fat,” he groans, scraping out the last bit of cake from the ramekin. “But I’m ready. I’ll get fat.” 

 

“I’ll govern your caloric intake. You don’t eat enough at school. You think that’s escaped my notice, that you skip lunch? I assume your family is poor, so you can take whatever you like from here to school. Don’t make a fuss or anything, I simply don’t want to have to carry you home if you pass out from low blood sugar.” Shu picks up Mademoiselle, fussing with her curls and skirts, which makes it much easier to avoid meeting those lovely mismatched eyes.

 

“Yumenosaki’s food is really expensive,” Mika grumbles, flopping back contently now that he’s full of cake. “You’re really nice, Oshi-san. Thank you so, so much. Ah, I guess I should call my mom and let her know...” Not that she’ll answer the phone, but at least then he can fake at having a normal mom. 

 

Shu flaps a hand, setting Mademoiselle down carefully and clearing the table. “Do it after you clean the dishes. Ugh, I hate touching food, so that’ll be all your responsibility from now on. It’s the least you can do.”

 

“Yeah, no problem! I’m good at cleanin’.” Mika bounces up to his feet again, grabbing the dishes away from Shu before he can do more work. “I’ve got this, Oshi-san. You can go back to sewin’ or whatever, I’ll clean the kitchen ‘till it sparkles.”

 

Somewhere in the last few hours, it has stopped mattering to Shu that he doesn’t like people, and certainly cherishes his time alone in his empty house. For whatever reason, though he’ll never say it aloud, Kagehira doesn’t feel like _people_. The Valkyrie has chosen another worthy from the field of battle, he supposes, and is ready to bear him to heaven.

 

Or maybe, for once, the Valkyrie is the one who has been chosen?

 

 

So it turns out that Shu keeps his house cold. Like, _really_ cold. 

 

Down where Mika used to live--lives?? he shouldn’t be thinking about it in past tense so fast!--there wasn’t anything close to an air conditioner, just a crappy little fan blowing on his face all night (which he hated). Shu has an air conditioner, it’s freezing, and Mika, exhausted and cold, is pretty sure he’s freezing to death.

 

That’s why he can’t be altogether blamed for stumbling his way into Shu’s room in the middle of the night, definitely not. 

 

It’s not like he’s never crawled his way into someone else’s bed before, but those beds are a lot less nice than Shu’s, and a lot less off the ground. Mika slithers his way onto the mattress, underneath the blankets, and sinks into what feels like bliss, what with how squishy and comfy Shu’s bed feels underneath him. And warm. Don’t forget _warm_ , because Shu radiates enough heat to combat the air conditioner in short order. 

 

Shu lets out a noise halfway between a squeak and a yelp, ripping off his lavender eyemask in startled shock when cold hands snake around his torso, something that has never happened in all of his sixteen years. “K-Kagehira! Wh--” 

 

Right, the cold. Honestly, the boy feels like ice, and guilt nips at Shu’s belly. He’d forgotten about that, and how the futon in the guest room would provide little warmth, especially on the floor. His own mistake, though he doesn’t want to admit it. 

 

Instead, he turns over, tugging his eyemask back down, then snuggles back against the other boy’s body. “You aren’t used to a Western bed, right? Don’t kick me.”

 

Mika’s face immediately buries its way into Shu’s chest. “Mnnn. I won’t. Oshi-san,your bed’s sooo comfy...” 

 

Shu is warm and solid and _very_ good for clinging to when he’s already cold, which is why he can’t be blamed for passing out again immediately into the best sleep he’s ever had. 

 

Which is why waking up in the morning feels like he’s waking out of a coma. 

 

Valkyrie has practice at 6, and Mika feels Shu start to move some time before that. Fastening his arms tighter around him does little, but Mika tries anyway, grumbling soft complaints and nuzzling his face into Shu’s chest. “Nnnn...Oshi-saaaan...don’t leave meeee...”

 

“Pull yourself together, Kagehira. It’s morning. Are you so addicted to my bed already?” 

 

For the first time in months, Shu doesn’t notice aches and pains when he stretches out. Ah. Perhaps having Kagehira squeezing him like a plushie all night had kept him from thrashing and getting tangled in the sheets the way he usually does. Well, then maybe it will be acceptable to allow this situation to continue after all. 

 

“You’re _warm_ ,” Mika bemoans, stuffing his face into Shu’s lower back even as the other boy tries to escape. “Mmnn, Oshi-san, you smell nice, too...” Mika realizes, sleepily, that he feels a little bruised, actually. Hmmm. Whatever, maybe Shu kicked him off the bed at some point. He probably deserved it. 

 

This is very different behavior from Kagehira’s usual nonsense, and color rises in Shu’s cheeks, even as he starts making distressed little noises in his throat. “K-Kagehira! You’re touching me so casually, I’m not one of your stuffed toys! Just because you live here now does not me you have free rein to squeeze and squash me whenever you like, so--honestly, I need to bathe!”

 

Very, very reluctantly, Mika loosens his hold, slumping down into the bed and grabbing the pillow Shu was sleeping on instead. “Sorry, Oshi-san,” he mumbles, settling back down and shutting his eyes. “You’re cuddly. Can’t help it.” 

 

“I’m not cuddly!” Briskly, Shu tugs the covers back over Kagehira’s sleeping body, grabbing his favorite fluffy towel from the bedside, then throwing another one on top of Kagehira’s tousled mop. Sleepy like this, it’s hard to shake the notion that he looks like an angel. Well, of course he does. Shu has excellent taste. “Just because you look like an angel when you sleep doesn’t mean you can avoid bathing. I’ll leave the water in the tub when I’m done.”

 

Mika just mumbles and huffs, pulling the towel over his head as he hunkers down into the bed, entirely uninterested in getting up. “Poke me,” he yawns, splaying flat onto his stomach. “When you’re done...nnn, Oshi-san...” Drooling on Shu’s pillow probably isn’t cute, but he’s too warm and content to care. 

 

Cute! Too cute! Shu’s mind pings at him, a warning that he’s about to experience a powerful emotion, and his head starts to ache. Right, time to take a shower. How troublesome. Clearly it’s because they slept in the same bed--even Nito doesn’t quite make him feel like this, though the urge to hold and nuzzle and decorate is also quite strong with Mika--Kagehira. 

 

The bath is hot and distracting, and Shu scrubs his skin pink all over, avoiding strongly scented products now that he’s sharing the bath. A thorough rinse with the showerhead follows, and for the first time in over a month, his hand lingers between his thighs. 

 

He’s hard.

 

Carefully, he climbs out of the bathtub, not wanting to soil the water. Long fingers curl, and he rests his head against the tiled wall as he starts to stroke in a brisk, urgent rhythm. Memories of the night assault him--Kagehira had breathed in his ear, and what if it had been his name? What if he’d begged, _Touch me, Oshi-san, I know y’can make me feel all good inside..._

 

Or something. His mental Kansai accent needs work.

 

His breath quickens, and images rise of Mika’s flushed cheeks, his fluttering eyelashes, his cheeky grin when he thinks no one is looking, the surprising strength of his arms when he squeezed Shu around the waist. It’s been a while since he’s thought of another human doing something like this--he’d never sully Nito in such a way--and usually it’s just random thoughts, fictional characters, faceless men in situations that are never likely to happen.

 

He bites into his fist, stifling a whimper when he strokes faster, imagining Mika nuzzling up against his back in the middle of the night, clever fingers stealing down to curl around his length, promising to make him happy, make him proud--

 

His release paints the wall, for just a second before he swipes at it, disgusted with himself, washing the sticky mess down the drain. He wraps the towel around his waist, then pads back to the bedroom, coldly prodding at Kagehira’s shoulder. “Kagehira. Wake up, or your bath will be ice cold and you’ll miss breakfast, you useless creature.” _Yes, that sounded normal. Well done, Itsuki Shu._

 

“Mnn, I’m up, I’m up...” Slowly, painstakingly, Mika rolls his way out of bed, yawning and stretching with his arms over his head. “Your bed feels like a cloud,” he dreamily says, staring up at Shu with sleepily hooded eyes. “How d’you ever get out of it?” As he slowly wakes up, staring at Shu’s bare chest when it’s damp is distracting, and Mika feels his face heat up. He looks away, fumbling for the towel he’d previously been hiding under. “Um, sorry for, ah, crawlin’ in bed with you like that. Your house got really cold, heh...” 

 

“It’s fine. Don’t--don’t talk about it, idiot. It’s fine, I’ve already said it’s fine!” No, no, his voice is shrill now. That sounds _weird_. Shu strips, fastening himself into his custom school uniform, tufting out his ruffled jabot. “I have no idea what I’m making for breakfast so you’ll eat anything.”

 

“Yep, I’ll eat anything!” Mika squeaks, bolting out of bed the second Shu takes all of his clothes off and hightails it out of the room, not wanting to be held responsible when his face keeps getting redder and redder. 

 

Soaking himself in the bath at least is a relief, and he probably stays in there longer than he should when he thinks about crawling back into bed and snuggling up with Shu again, even though he _definitely_ has a few bruises where he was kicked and thwacked in Shu’s sleep. He pokes at them, shivers, and glowers. _I’m such a gross weirdo,_ he tiredly thinks, flopping his arms over the bathtub, staring at the wall, then at the ceiling, then flopping down further into the water in a half-hearted attempt to drown the thoughts of how nice Itsuki Shu’s back is out of his head. _He likes Nazuna-nii, that’s a fact._

 

Fortunately, thinking about what would happen if _anyone_ back home found out that he kinda likes a _boy_ kills any and all desire to linger in the bath for too much longer, and he drains the tub, scrubbing himself dry and wrapping himself up in the towel as he pads back to the bedroom to find wherever he stashed his newly made clothes. Warm, he’s sooo warm, and his sleeves are long and floppy and he can’t stop toying with them as he slinks his way into the kitchen. “D’you need any help, Oshi-san?” 

 

“Ah, yes, because I’ve starved to death until now because I’ve been lacking the culinary skills of Kagehira Mika. Idiot, just sit down and eat. And don’t spoil your new clothes, you actually look good for once.” A hunk of grilled salmon and bowl of miso soup make their way to a plate along with leftover rice from the day before. “Pardon the Japanese breakfast, I forgot to go grocery shopping. Ah, if we have time, I might take you by my favorite bakery before practice. They always have fresh croissants this time of day...”

 

Mika makes it a point to eat as fast as he can. “I like Japanese breakfast, ‘s fine,” he says after swallowing a hunk of rice and chasing it with his miso. “‘m already packed for school and stuff, so--” The salmon disappears shortly as well, and Mika beams, darting his plate over to the sink. “All done, let’s go to the bakery!” 

 

Shu laughs, dropping his own bowl in the sink as well. “You eat fast when you need to, at least. That’s one less thing I need to criticize you for.” His own bowl is empty, and has always been, but if he puts a bowl in the sink, Kagehira probably won’t bother him about it. Troublesome--now he’s remembering that living with other people is a nuisance.

 

“Well, we’ve gotta go get you croissants,” Mika hums, and bounds out of the kitchen, taking only enough time to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. “Japanese breakfast ain’t for everyone, Oshi-san. C’mon, let’s go, I’ll even run in myself if it’s too crowded for you.” Big talk from someone who has to walk as fast as possible down a busy street to escape, but if it’s for the sake of impressing Shu, he can _do_ this. 

 

That unaccustomed thud of affection pings in Shu’s chest again. This really _is_ troublesome, he thinks in dismay, grabbing his bag on the way out the door. Hopefully, Kagehira will do something stupid soon to remind him of all the bad things about the other boy. He will, of course. That is the nature of humanity--to disappoint him. That is, of course, what he loves so much about Nito--he’s not human, not really. “If you run in, grab a croque monseiur for Nito. They’ve got a deal going where you get a free can badge if you get a croque monsieur, he loves can badges. Maybe he’ll smile for me.”

 

Ahh, and they’re back to Nito. That’s unfortunate, but not unexpected, and so Mika just smiles and nods, waiting for Shu to lock the door behind him and then following at his heels as he leads the way. “You really like Nazuna-nii, huh.” He’s not quite sure if he’s got the courage to ask _are you dating? is that a thing here in idol school?_ but at least this is a starting point to go from. 

 

“Hmm? Yes. I adore him. He’s perfect, don’t you think? Ah, if I could put him in a glass case so that no one could ever touch him, I would. The rest of humanity doesn’t deserve to see something so beautiful, Kagehira.” Shu’s voice is fond, contemplative as he strides through the streets. If he looks straight ahead and thinks of Nito, the morning crowds don’t bother him. Of course, that’s half the reason he loves having practice so early--not many people are up and about at 5:45am, even in Tokyo.

 

_Just ask, just ask!_ “S-so are you two...uh...” Mika lengthens his stride to keep up with Shu, deciding to watch his feet as he walks so maybe, he won’t blush about such a personal question. “Are y-you two...dating?” 

 

“Hm? Oh, me dating Nito?” Shu laughs, a high-pitched cackle. “No, no, no no no no. Don’t you think excessive touching would damage the strings? I’d be far too afraid of tainting his purity. Ah, I wonder what he’ll be wearing today. Shorts, I hope.”

 

The fact that Shu didn’t freak out at him speaks volumes, and Mika relaxes all the way down to his toes. Maybe idols _are_ way more unconcerned about that, thankfully. “Nazuna-nii is really cute,” Mika obligingly agrees, which is starting to become a habit. “Ah, is this the bakery? Whoa, it really is popular...” Lines going out of doors is _not_ his specialty, but if it’s for Shu... 

 

“Don’t be a martyr, Kagehira. We’ll wait in line together so you don’t mess up my order.” Shu steps into line, inhaling deeply at the glorious scent of fresh baked goods by a proper French bakery. “Ah... _Mon Dieu_ , have you ever smelled something so exquisite, Kagehira? Are your tastebuds refined enough to appreciate something of this caliber, or is it just all _bread_ to you?”

 

_“I never get to eat stuff like this at home,” Mika answers honestly, relieved even more that Shu is actually willing to wait with him. If he were a little braver, he’d grab onto Shu’s arm, but that’s a bit much. Instead, he picks and toys at the hems of his sleeves, still infinitely pleased with them. “But there was a lady once at my mom’s work that used to go to bakeries like this, and let me try the stuff she got that she didn’t like. I like anything sweet, so I’m pretty easy, I guess, but it does smell really good.”_

 

“Mm, my mother did anything useful like working,” Shu says with a sigh. The urge comes to him to tap his foot, which he forces down as a vulgar habit he’d broken long ago. He peers over the crowds, still mildly startled that he can do that--his growth spurt of the previous year still hasn’t entirely sunk in. “What does your mother do?”

 

“She works at a spa.” It’s a practiced response that Mika doesn’t hesitate with for a second. “She complains about it all the time. I gotta get a part time job while I’m here so I can send money back home…then maybe she won’t have to work so much, y’know? Least I can do is be useful when she works so hard.” 

 

“Adults should take care of their children. She should have pride in her job.” Shu takes a step forward, finally inside the front door of the bakery. The smell is incredible, and his knees weaken at the way it washes over his senses. “Ah, _sacre bleu_ , I’m going to eat too much, I know it. Hmm, I suppose I don’t mind boys that work as hard as you, but don’t let a part-time job take away from your Valkyrie practice. Get an on-campus job, if you must. They’re assigned daily, or so I hear.”

 

“I won’t let it take away from practice,” Mika promises, even as he fights down a yawn and ends up hiding it behind one of his sleeves. “Mmn…’specially if I’m stayin’ with you. That makes it a _lot_  easier. Ahh, wow, everythin’ looks so pretty, I’m just used to eatin’ taiyaki all the time…” 

 

“Now you’ll eat something of quality.” Shu doesn’t _hate_ being the one to introduce Kagehira to the finer things in life, even if his family isn’t exactly wealthy--at least, not compared to some of the students at his school like that blasted Tenshouin. “That reminds me,” he says, switching topics rapidly, “Tenshouin Eichi is the worst. Don’t ever associate with him, or you can forget about knowing me.”

 

“Ten…shou…ahh, sorry, I’m bad with names, what’s he look like?” Another person in line bumps into him, and Mika tries not to overreact. Normally, he’d be sent into a flurry of apologizing, but in this instance, he reflexively reaches out to grab at Shu’s arm as a means of huddling closer to him. Strength in numbers, if nothing else! 

 

“Like the devil himself,” Shu snaps. “Don’t grab at my arm, you’ll unbalance me. Here--” He puts his arm around the outside of the line, effectively putting it around Kagehira’s shoulders instead, shuffling forward. “He was just elected as Student Council President, and he’s been harassing me ever since. He’s just jealous because I don’t want him in Valkyrie.” Not that Tenshouin had _asked_ to join Valkyrie, but Shu is pretty sure about his motivations.

 

“R-right, that guy.” Shu smells _good_ , and Mika gulps, trying not to be too thrilled about essentially _being in Shu’s arms._  That’s a stretch, definitely, but Shu putting an arm around him definitely makes him feel warm and weak-kneed. “I’ll, um, stay away from him then. I don’t wanna talk to anyone that’s mean to you.” 

 

“Don’t talk about it as if I dislike him because he’s _mean to me_ \--I’m not so weak or foolish, idiot! Tenshouin is pure evil. He’s started some stupid little group to try and fight me--fine, he calls it, because he thinks he’s _cultured_ \--so don’t be surprised if they try to challenge us to a Live. I’ll refuse, of course. Valkyrie is above such petty, vulgar things.”

 

“But we could beat him,” Mika hedges. “And maybe if we did that, he’d leave you alone? I gotta get better at pickin’ out pure evil, he was so _nice_  when he told me I failed all the interview stuff for joinin’ the other units…”

 

“He wanted to mock you, idiot.” If there’s one Shu knows about Tenshouin Eichi, it’s that he wants to destroy and humiliate everything Shu loves. “He’s dying, which has nothing to do with how evil he is. Don’t feel sorry for him, it only makes him more powerful. He’s always monopolizing the infirmary when I want to take a rest, as if someone seriously ill shouldn’t just be in the _hospital_. Also, he has no talent for being an idol, but thinks he should be the top idol just because--ah, it’s our turn.” Shu wavers slightly when it comes to stepping up to the cashier, and clears his throat once, then twice.

 

Mika hesitates for a moment, then makes good on his word and steps in front of Shu, no matter how talking to cashiers is right up there on his list of _scariest._  Just so long as he doesn’t have to look them in the eye… 

 

“T-two, um…” Stuttering his way through an order is fairly par for the course on his end—but _ugh,_  French words are hard. Just thinking about how Shu said them helps, and Mika turns to tug Shu’s wallet out of his hand, trying not to let his fingers shake as he plucks out the bills and push them over to the cashier. It’s a girl, _thankfully_ , and Mika manages to not panic when she hands him the receipt, and cheerfully ushers them to go to the side while she bags up their order. “Probably said that wrong, sorry,” he weakly laughs, pushing Shu’s wallet back into his grasp. “And Nazuna-nii can have both the can badges from the, um, what was it…” 

 

“Order number 57!”

 

Mika bolts to grab the bag—two croissants, two croque monseiurs—and grabs Shu’s hand as well, tugging him out of the crowded bakery towards the exit. “Ahhh, fresh air,” he breathes. “Here, Oshi-san, eat up!”  


 

Shu blinks, hardly understanding what had just happened, only managing to process that he hadn’t had to talk to strangers and yet somehow has food. He stares down at the croissants, croques, and badges, and his mouth opens and closes for a few startled seconds before he finds his voice. “K-Kagehira...you _fool_ , you miserable wretch! You forgot to get yourself anything--and now I’m the ogre who denied you delicious sweets? You’ll make up for this tomorrow and get yourself twice as much!”

 

“I already ate breakfast! And I’m not gonna get fat unless you tell me how, so that’s the deal, Oshi-san,” Mika hums, grabbing Shu’s wrist again to pull him towards the train station. “I’ll eat twice as much tomorrow if you want me to, but only if you let me get you more croissants. Y’gotta spoil yourself before you spoil other people, that’s what my mom says.” Admittedly, his mom means in it in the ‘I’m gonna get my nails done before I buy you a new school uniform’ kind of way, but Mika is pretty sure he can figure out a nicer way to put that statement to use.

 

Shu’s ears turn pink at the tips, and he bites into his croissant aggressively, ignoring the rudeness of the action for the moment because croissants are so much better fresh. “You have to savor them,” he says thickly around the flaky, buttery pastry sliding happily down his throat. “That’s a compliment to the baker. Don’t forget, Kagehira.” 

 

He wavers for a moment, then pulls out the second croissant, carefully using the wax paper to pull off a bit of the end. “Here. Eat this. Experience bliss.”

 

Mika gingerly takes it from Shu, and pops it into his mouth in short order. “That _is_  good,” he sighs as he chews and swallows. “No wonder it’s your favorite. Mmn, I like stuff that has a _lot_  of sugar, though. I’ll have to try one of their chocolate things tomorrow, maybe…” 

 

“I’ll pick one out for you. Not that I know anything about chocolate nonsense, but I’m sure I can tell which ones are worthy of going in such a lovely mouth.” A flash of yellow passes before them, and Shu’s strides lengthen. “Ah, Nito! Lovely Nito, you--ack!” 

 

The noise he makes upon seeing that the figure is not Nazuna Nito, but instead one Tenshouin Eichi who had been kneeling to look at something on the ground, is a horrific squawk.

 

Mika, still reeling from this newest compliment— _he thinks my mouth is pretty, too! isn’t that kind of a sexy thing to think about or say, holy shi_ —stumbles right into Shu’s back when he stops dead, and stifles a yelp in the process. He might be terrible with names, but he’s good with faces, and peering around Shu to get a good look at the boy that straightens up, brushing off his knees, confirms why Shu had such a sudden reaction. 

 

“Ah, Itsuki-kun, good morning!” Tenshouin Eichi doesn’t look like the devil—far from it, which is disconcerting. He’s all pale skin (almost translucent) and pale hair (also almost translucent), looking like some kind of a waning angel if anything, and he’s _very_  pretty (even if those are definitely contacts that make his eyes so large and blue). Mika figures he’s going to have to get used to so many attractive guys in one place at some point, but he’s not there yet. “Is that your newest pet hiding behind you?” Eichi hums, taking a step forward. “I didn’t realize Valkyrie was _expanding._ ”

 

“And I didn’t realize you actually attended our Lives. You certainly sing and dance as if you’ve never even seen talent. Ha!” If no one else will laugh at his jokes, Shu has always been perfectly willing to laugh at his own. 

 

“Isn’t it a little early to be that rude?” Eichi mildly shoots back, hands on his hips as he steps directly into Shu’s personal space and peers around him to get a better look at Mika. “Ahhh, you picked _this_  one out.”

 

“U-um—“

 

“Cute, but not my style. He looks like a little rough around the edges, don’t you think? Is it wise of you to put _more_  work upon yourself at such a delicate point in your career?”

 

“Unlike some, I have my health, and prefer _not_ to give all my work to others. Unlike _you_ , who is always ill and shoves all his work off onto Hasumi!” Subtlety is not Shu’s strong point. He steps between Eichi and Kagehira--he’s not afraid of _Tenshouin_ , after all--and folds his arms, taking advantage of his most recent growth spurt to almost come face to face with him. “I heard you’ve been trying to seduce Wataru to your disgusting cause. He’s too good for you. You know, I crafted his entire aesthetic!”

 

“While I could easily talk about Wataru all day, I’m really not interested in what you have to say,” Eichi dismisses with an easy flutter of one hand. “And trying to stand up for Keito _truly_ doesn’t suit you. Why don’t you talk about something that you know thoroughly, hmm? Dolls? Hand-sewing lace? Disassembling your grandmother’s clocks for your tired steampunk aesthetic?” 

 

“Ha ha, you betray your ignorance! All of the gears on Valkyrie’s costumes are painstakingly made by hand--though of course, I am sure that if you have no vision of your own, you may not recognize it when it defeats you in contest after contest.” Ahhh, Shu’s eyes are sparkling. This is familiar, trading insults with a man he despises, getting to show off his superiority in front of Kagehira. If only Nito were here, it would be perfect. “And don’t you dare tell that third-rate writer that I was standing up for him, I’d rather rip out his insides and fill them with cotton.”

 

“I’ll believe that you can defeat fine if you would actually accept our challenges,” Eichi sweetly says. “But alas, Valkyrie keeps running away! I wonder why that is. Are you too infatuated with your human dollies to actually _win_  anything now, Itsuki-kun?” 

 

_Scary_ , Mika warily thinks, perfectly content hiding _behind_  Shu during all of this. Tenshouin Eichi doesn’t seem fazed at _all_  by Shu’s insults and snipes, which is scary in and of itself. If this is a part of being an idol, Mika reconsiders.

 

“Running away? Ha!” God, he hates Tenshouin. Every word out of his foul mouth makes Shu want to wring his neck, pull his head off and replace it with a perfect, inanimate replica. “Valkyrie has never lost a Live. We haven’t ascended to the position of top unit in Yumenosaki by wasting our time on temporary units that will never last more than a week. I heard you didn’t even sell out of tickets for your last pathetic attempt at a performance. Is it your family’s filthy money keeping you afloat, buying your expensive costumes? Kagehira, would you rather wear something a professional tailor made, or something by me?”

 

“S-something by you, definitely!”

 

“Oh, listen to your sycophant, you’ve already inducted him properly, I see,” Eichi sighs, rolling his eyes as he leans back onto his heels. “Blind followers are no fun, but if that’s what you like, more for you. We’ll see how that goes for you if you’ll _ever_  accept one of fine’s challenges—what are you afraid of, I wonder? Our costumes showing yours up?” His breath stutters, seemingly for no reason, and he holds up a hand for pause as he hacks and wheezes hard into his hand. Bafflingly enough to Mika, this pause seems to be accepted as normal, because Shu _does_  just wait until Eichi has caught his breath again and stops coughing. “Please,” Eichi rasps, fishing for his inhaler in his bag and making quick use of it, “feel free to continue accusing me of being too rich, it’s funny.”

 

“I would love to accuse you of each and every one of your personal failings,” Shu says with a sniff, once Eichi doesn’t look as if he’s about to collapse any second. “But unlike most of those depressing little pop-up groups, Valkyrie practices before school as well as after school, because we aren’t afraid of a little hard work. Come, Kagehira. We’ll wait for Nito inside the practice room.”

 

“Get on a stage and fight me!” Eichi snarls after him as they walk away, and Mika can’t help but stare as their student council president _basically_  stomps his foot in a drastic shift in personality. “Your title doesn’t mean anything if you can’t beat me!”

 

“Scary,” Mika mutters, unconsciously clinging to the back of Shu’s blazer. “Why is he like that?”

 

“Because he’s a talentless hack who uses money in place of vision,” Shu snaps, and yanks at his jacket. “Don’t cling, you’ll wrinkle the fabric. Don’t you ever _dare_ show weakness in front of Tenshouin again, Kagehira, or I’ll pluck out your eyes and replace them with topaz and sapphires. You are a part of _Valkyrie_ , not some pathetic low-class unit with no pride.”

 

“S-sorry, sorry,” Mika murmurs, releasing Shu’s jacket hastily and hurriedly going back to fumbling with his own sleeves, yanking them further down his hands. “Guys like him—I dunno, they’re scary. Most guys are, but that’s the worst kind, when they smile and still say mean things. I dunno how you can even talk to him.”

 

“I hate him more than I’ve ever hated another human,” Shu says bluntly. “Pathetic, consumptive Bocchamas don’t frighten me--they’re the worst, far worse than the brutes, you’re right about that, because they try to get other people to do their dirty work. I just--I won’t give him an opening, ever. We’ll have to be more perfect. Yes, he can’t do anything if we’re flawless, always. Pick up the pace, Kagehira! You expect me to defeat Tenshouin with you dragging your shoes that way, making them all scuffed and worn? Did your brain fall out when you got scared?”

 

“No!! Sorry, I’m comin’!”

 

No matter how they both show up bright and early to practice, Nito basically just…doesn’t. He rolls in five minutes towards the end of practice, when Mika is on the floor in a cool-down stretch, and Nito stares down at him, large-eyed and unconcerned. 

 

“Uh…mornin’, Nazuna-nii.”

 

Nito just kind of grunts at him on his way over to Shu, and Mika bites his tongue. It’s not like it’s up to him whether or not Nito is on time or not—and for all he knows, this is some kind of extra training that he’s supposed to be getting and Nito isn’t. 

 

“The…you-know-who. He posted a challenge note on our door.” It’s more than Mika has ever heard Nito speak, and just over the past week, he’s discovered it’s because Nito is painfully self-conscious of his lisp, and always chooses his words carefully to avoid it. “We can burn it.”

 

Shu’s mouth wavers. He aches to reprimand, but Nito is looking so downcast, an expression that should never be on that lovely face... “You’re quite late, aren’t you, Nito?” he asks carefully, holding out his hand for the paper. “Is it--it’s that you want to have a longer practice after school, isn’t it? You’ll stay with me after school until it gets dark, dancing to my new songs, won’t you?”

 

Nito places the paper in Shu’s grasp, his shoulders heaving in a little shrug. 

 

The first bell sounds for class, and Mika grimaces as he slowly hauls himself onto wobbly legs, only to faceplant again seconds later. “Ahhh…leave me here to die…Oshi-san, I’m dyin’, go on without me…”

 

“He’s so beautiful,” Shu muses, fingers itching to design something for Nito to wear, slightly depressed by the fact that Nito hasn’t worn the last three outfits he’d created. Ah, well, his birthday is coming up. He can’t refuse presents now. 

 

Kagehira is flopping along in an embarrassing manner, and Shu scowls, crumpling up the paper and throwing it to the ground, stepping on it with his heel. “Get up, failure. You think that just because you completed that one practice, you can behave in such an unsightly fashion? Nito, don’t look at him, I couldn’t hear it if your stomach was soured. You aren’t worried about Tenshouin, are you? Just ignore him, he’ll go away.”

 

He checks the clock, and heaves a sigh. “If only you’d gotten into 2-A, we could be together the whole day, as well. Ah, if I could only keep anyone else from seeing your beauty...” He reaches up, carefully, reverently brushing the golden strands of hair back from Nito’s face, showing off his precious, beautiful face.

 

As noisily as possible—because Nito is everything but noisy, too-quiet, kind of _creepy_  quiet but not in the cute way, Mika sulkily thinks—Mika claws himself off the ground, packing up his things. No, it’s stupid and gross to be jealous, and he’s _not_  even jealous, he’s just… _they aren’t dating, and Nito isn’t even interested, that’s obvious, so whyyyy?_

 

Nito turns away without a sound, even his footsteps barely tap-tapping across the practice floor, and he disappears from the practice room not long afterwards. Mika heaves a sigh, clinging his bag over his shoulder and trying not to think about how he skipped all of his homework last night. “See you again at practice, Oshi-san,” he moodily says.

 

“Don’t talk to me, failure!” 

 

There’s a half-finished smock in the corner that was supposed to be part of Nito’s next coat. It makes a high-pitched tearing noise when Shu grabs both seams and rips it apart, hurling the pieces to the floor. “Was never right,” he mutters, frantic and a little manic. Images of the dress currently clinging to the mannequin upstairs in his room haunt his mind, taunting him with the way it never hangs right, never quite fits the proportions he’d assigned. 

 

Mika lingers warily at the door, one hand on the doorknob, with good sense telling him to just walk out and be done with it, but… “Oshi-san,” he quietly tries again, and something flip-flops over in his stomach. “I can go try and ask him what’s wrong, if you want.” 

 

Shu looks up, eyes red-rimmed and more than a little mad. “Why won’t he smile for me?” he asks, almost pleading, forgetting who he’s talking to. “If something is wrong--I’d tear the world apart for him. I _want_ to.”

 

“T…that seems a little extreme, doncha think?” Mika nervously laughs, biting his lip as the second bell rings, and he knows, _knows_  that he won’t be able to walk into class late without dying of embarrassment, anyway, so what’s the point? He shifts where his bag sits on his shoulder awkwardly. “Maybe he’s just…kinda tired. He seems like it. I mean, you’ve known him for a lot longer, but not showin’ up for practice, bein’ real quiet and distant…” Mika trails off, shrugging. “Maybe he’s worried about not bein’ able to keep up. I know I am.” 

 

“Don’t project your insecurities onto someone like him,” Shu says sharply, kicking at the heap of discarded fabric. “Ugh...I don’t feel well after all. Perhaps the infirmary is a better idea than class. Yes, that sounds soothing. I’m sure my bed is still reserved.”

 

“…How long’s the practice room reserved for?” Mika sullenly asks, trying not to sound frustrated, and hoping he’s pulling it off. _It’s fine, it’s fine_ , he tells himself. _Nazuna-nii will be cute again later, Oshi-san will forget about this, and I’ll remember not to bother next time._  “I don’t wanna go to class, I’d rather just keep working.” 

 

Shu throws up his hands, grabbing his bag and shouldering it. “Now you’re both being incorrigibly sulky. My practices are perfectly designed to be grueling _without_ overworking you, Kagehira. If you undo all of my hard work and sprain something during practice this afternoon, Tenshouin will think he’s right, and I truly am a cruel and ogre-like taskmaster. Go to class, don’t make me worry about you, I have enough to fret about.” Like why Nito is so cold to him these last few days, and how to find out the answer.

 

~

 

Kurou Kiryuu’s shoulder is broad and muscled, and Shu wishes he were a little less familiar with it at this point in his life. At least he hadn’t been fully unconscious, and Kiryuu hadn’t needed to do more than support him as he stumbled home, in more of a fugue state than anything, not seeing the people and cars passing before him. He mutters something vague about needing to find Kagehira--he’d sent Kagehira ahead, told him to pick up a bag of plums on the way home as an excuse to get him out of the way--and shoves off of that broad shoulder at his doorstep.

 

“Ya know, I-chan, I don’t have to--”

 

“Don’t--not right now.” Shu’s voice is fraught, his hands flapping helplessly at his sides. “Go home, Ryuu-kun--Kiryuu. I don’t have the energy for this right now.” 

 

Kurou’s face clouds over, but he shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Every time ya bite off more than you can chew, ya always wind up makin’ my life hard.”

 

“That’s none of your concern!”

 

“It kinda--”

 

Shu storms into the house, slamming the door behind him before slumping back against it, the shaking overtaking him as he slowly slides to the floor, dry sobs wracking his frame. Everything feels like blackness at the edges of his vision, and he slaps a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the urge to vomit.

 

Mika, long already home with plums (and a pair of croissants, because he’d checked, and they were there, so why not spend a little bit of money to try and make Shu happy?), fairly bolts out of the doll room at the sound of the door opening, and stops dead, staring warily at the sight that greets him. 

 

“O...Oshi-san?” He steps closer, slowly kneeling down and daring to reach out, his fingers curling gently against Shu’s arm. “Oshi-san...what happened? D-do I need to call someone?” If he were cooler, he’d threaten to beat them up, whoever made Shu upset, but he’s not at that level. 

 

Shit. Kagehira is here. The tears spill down over Shu’s hand, clapped firmly over his mouth, and he sucks in air desperately, trying to pull it together without being violently ill. Maybe he just-- “Mademoiselle,” he gasps. “I just--it’ll distract me, just--” _Fetch her, she’s always perfect, she’ll always love me, she never brushes me off or makes sad faces or makes me feel like locking myself in the attic._

 

Mika nods rapidly and bolts away, disappearing for only a second before returning with the doll. He firmly pushes her into Shu’s hold and then sits back, biting his lip as he tries to figure out what else to do. “D...do you want me t’jus’ leave you alone?” he frets. “Sometimes, when I get like this, I don’t want no one touchin’ me, but other times, I really need someone to, so just tell me which it is and I’ll do it.”

 

Shu’s fingers stop trembling the second they touch the doll, smoothing her perfect curls, arranging her voluminous skirts. “Mademoiselle isn’t really her name,” he says softly, more to himself than to Kagehira. “She doesn’t have one yet. I can’t...think of a perfect name. I’d rather she stay unfinished forever than regret it down the road. _Non_ , I hate this dress, she needs a better one.” He heaves himself up--it gives him a reason to get off the floor, tear tracks drying on his face, dripping off his chin as he hums, searching out a green velvet number he’d made a few months earlier.

 

Mika peers after him, not _quite_ getting it, but he’s done weirder things when he’s...having a moment. He hauls himself to his feet, trailing after Shu, more to make sure he doesn’t collapse and hurt himself or something like it. “I can’t say her name too well, so I just keep callin’ her Mado-nee,” he quietly offers up. “She don’t seem to mind. Ah, Oshi-san, I made tea, d’you want some?” 

 

Shu’s head snaps up, not comprehending what Kagehira is saying for a moment, before he slowly, tentatively nods. “K-Kagehira...” 

 

Absently, he scrubs at his face, then finishes buttoning up Mademoiselle’s dress in back, satisfied with the look. “You don’t care if I speak frankly,” he says quietly, to the doll, to Kagehira, but ostensibly to the doll--or so he’ll swear if Kagehira asks. “You won’t cry if I scold you. You’d never do something so unsightly--you know, don’t you? That I only--I want to make you _better_. You know that, right? You know? You wouldn’t--you’d never do something so low as to make sad faces if I scolded you. What a good child.”

 

“W...welll...I mean, I don’t want y’to scold me, but I won’t cry or nothin’, ‘cuz I _do_ know you’re jus’ tryin’ to make me better...” Mika hedges. “I’d rather know if I’m doin’ somethin’ wrong, so I can fix it.” The obvious finally occurs to him. “Um...did...did something happen? With Nazuna-nii?” Because it’s always going to be Nito, Mika has discovered, if Shu is going to get anywhere near flustered or upset. 

 

Shu swallows hard. He straightens Mademoiselle’s dress again, then tucks her in the crook of his arm, striding into the kitchen. “You’re too simple to cry when I reprimand you, aren’t you? I never thought I’d appreciate that stupid honesty of yours so much, but I find myself cherishing it now. I don’t...”

 

Mademoiselle takes a seat overlooking the kitchen, and Shu starts dumping rice into the rice cooker, enough for Kagehira alone. “I just--I just want him to smile for me. Only for me. Kagehira, if you ever cry, I’ll remove what brain you have left and stitch soft fluff up inside your empty head, I won’t _stand_ for it.”

 

“...Pretty sure there’s already some fluff in there,” Mika says with a nervous laugh, warily lingering in the doorway of the kitchen as he watches Shu. “Did...did Nazuna-nii get upset about somethin’? I tried to find him earlier to talk t’him.” 

 

“I had to confront him about being late.” Talking about it isn’t _quite_ as distressing as he’d thought. Shu takes a deep breath, and rinses the rice thoroughly, remembering the distasteful way his older sister had taught him years ago, then adding water. “Three times this week--his dancing was starting to suffer. Even his! I thought I was kind in my reprimand, but...” 

 

It had almost been a surprise that those tears were only water. Shu had halfway expected Nito to cry diamonds. He’d sunk to his knees, begging Nito not to make such awful faces, promising to fix him up perfectly so he’d never have to feel such ugly emotions again, replacing all of his feelings with the sweet empty bliss of being a puppet.

 

“Oh.” Mika gnaws on his lower lip. “But y’kinda had to get on his case about it. He’s gotta come to practice. I don’t think y’did anything wrong, Oshi-san...maybe he’s sensitive ‘bout that, like a kneejerk reaction? I’m sure he don’t hold it against you.” _But maybe he’ll actually show up on time._ It’s not really fair, that Nito gets to skip out when they’re both working so hard without him. 

 

“When I want your opinion on my skills as a leader of Valkyrie, I’ll stitch it into you!” Shu’s voice is shrill and unbalanced, and he reaches out to touch Mademoiselle’s skirts for a moment, calming himself with the touch. “I’ll just--he’ll understand my feelings if I make him something beautiful for his birthday. It’s in two weeks, did you know?”

 

“...Uh huh,” Mika wearily agrees. “You’ve told me five times.” _Five times just in the past two days._ That sounds a little more annoyed than he’d like, and Mika quickly diverts the subject. “That reminds me, Oshi-san. I got your plums, and I also--well, they had another batch made, so I picked up a couple of croissants. Maybe you’ll feel better if y’eat one?” He grabs for the shopping bag on the table, pulling out the little paper bag within. “They’re still warm, I bet...”

 

“Don’t be stupid, I can’t eat right now. My system is in distress.” A glass of cold water, that’s the trick. Even if those croissants smell incredible...

 

His resolve wavers for a moment. “Then again...if I’m going to be up sewing all night, I suppose my system _could_ use some amount of nutrients. Hand over that croissant. I wonder if you managed to get it home without crushing it...”

 

“I carried it separately,” Mika eagerly confirms, plucking one out in its wax paper and handing it over. At least he can get Shu to _eat_ , and he considers that a major victory. “Don’t stay up too late, Oshi-san. I’m bad in the morning, so you’ve gotta be awake enough to whip me into shape, right?” 

 

Shu chews his croissant, sighing a little at the taste. He casts Kagehira a glance--the boy looks hopeful, wavering on the edge of concerned. Absently, Shu reaches over and pats his hand, squeezing it slightly. “Keep that idiotic smile on your face, won’t you? If you make me worry about you all the time like he does, I really will go mad, and then where will you be? Eat a plum, there’s a good doll. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you forgot your lunch at home.” Yes, this feels more normal. Perhaps it’s the croissant, but he feels far less as if he’s about to fall over or start weeping again.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Mika sheepishly replies, plucking a plum out of the bag and resisting _firmly_ the urge to grab Shu’s hand and cling to it. “Not used to havin’ anyone make lunch for me, but I’ll remember next time. I don’t wanna waste your cookin’. D’you need any help sewin’? I know I’m not good yet, but if it’s little stuff, I bet I can do it...then you won’t be up all night.” 

 

Shu shoots him a look that’s half exasperation, half irritated fondness. “What on earth were you working on in handicrafts club, some sort of ratty bear plushie? What’s the goal, there?”

 

Mika shrugs as he takes a bite out of his plum, sucking the juice out of it before it can run down his chin. “Mm. Ah, Kuma-kun. I dunno, someone tossed him in the trash, and I felt bad for him, so I rescued him. I like fixin’ up plushies ‘n stuff...though I wish I could make clothes as good as you can, then they wouldn’t be naked.” 

 

“Naked? Hmm.” Creating things does sound much better and more tolerable than thinking about how Nito had reached out a small hand and grabbed at his jacket, how he’s an awful person who makes someone so beautiful cry. “We can’t have that. Do you have him at home? I’ll make him something to wear.”

 

“Really?!” Mika nearly chokes on his plum in his haste to finish it. “I brought him home with me so I could finish stitchin’ him up--would you really make him somethin’? Ahh, Oshi-san, you really are spoilin’ me!” 

 

The rice cooker latch pops up, conveniently distracting Shu from the way his face flushes at that. “I just can’t abide nudity in dolls. It shows a distinct lack of care.” He bustles out of the room, coming back with a couple bolts of fabric based on the color he remembers from handicrafts club earlier. “You’ll appreciate whatever style I decide on, of course.”

 

“Uh huh! I’m sure you’ll make him look really cute!” Mika fishes the bear out of hisbag, all but bouncing. “Oshi-san, is it really okay for me to keep all my plushies here? If I can, I’ll start findin’ more of ‘em, I’ll start a real _collection_ and we can make ‘em look super cute with all of your clothes and designs...” 

 

“As long as you keep them clean and free of dust, you can have as many as you like. Brighten this old place up a bit.” Cutting fabric feels soothing like nothing else does, and Shu feels the hunger pangs disappear, or at least recede. 

 

“Mm, I’ll keep ‘em all clean! I like cleanin’, remember?” Mika bounds over, plopping down and setting the bear between them. “I dusted your doll room a little while I was waitin’ for you to come home. Your dolls are so pretty, I can’t even believe it. Ah, Oshi-san, Oshi-san, you’ve been workin’ on our outfits for the next Live, too, right? I can’t wait, no one’s ever made me anythin’ before and everythin’ you make is so _beautiful..._ ” Truth be told, Mika hopes if he praises Shu enough, he’ll just get to sit and watch him sew for awhile. The way he cuts fabric, threads a needle, works so perfectly on everything--it’s mesmerizing, and, well, maybe it’s weird to think so, but Mika personally thinks it’s kinda sexy. 

 

Some of the glow returns to Shu’s face, and he breathes easier, a little of his cocky smile tugging at his lips again. “They look good, don’t they? Don’t they? Ah, standing up there with two backup dancers is going to look incredible. I’ve been hearing from the advisors that Valkyrie has been lacking in sex appeal to females. Well, recruitment is good for something, I suppose.”

 

“Mm? Who’re you recruitin’ for something like that?” 

 

Shu stares, needle paused in the fabric. “Don’t act stupid, Kagehira. I cannot abide people who pretend at ignorance simply to be complimented.”

 

Mika blinks back at him, his head tilting in honest confusion. “Eh? I don’t get it. Sorry, Oshi-san, what compliment?” 

 

“It’s you, Kagehira. You’re the sex appeal.”

 

Again, Mika blinks. “W...wait. Seriously?” Like a dog whose tail is starting to wag, he slowly leans forward, eyes wide. “Oshi-san...Oshi-san, d’you really think I’m sexy?” 

 

“Of course you are.” Shu cocks his head to the side, needle plunging in and out of soft cotton. “Do you think I would pick someone without appeal for Valkyrie? Have more respect for my taste than that.”

 

Mika collapses onto the floor, clutching at his stuffed toy as he rolls slowly back and forth. “Ahhh, Oshi-san thinks I’m sexy! No one’s ever told me that befoooore--” He shoves his bear over his face, attempting to hide how hard he’s starting to blush.

 

“It won’t be the last time--stop it, fool, you’re making me regret admitting that!” One seam done--doll clothes take him no time at all--Shu moves on to the next, attaching a tiny tube for a sleeve. “You have the _potential_ to be very sexy. Once the main Valkyrie outfits are completed, you’ll fulfill a great deal of that. And you have a...surprisingly effective way of moving your hips, Kagehira.” The next stitch goes slightly askew, and Shu curses, picking it out and furious at himself for being so distracted.

 

“I can’t wait to see them,” Mika sighs contently, basking in all of the praise and trying not to kick his legs too hard out of happiness. “We’re all gonna look so good...I dunno why the advisors thought Valkyrie wasn’t sexy to girls, though. I think you’re really sexy, Oshi-san. I mean, I guess I’m not a girl, but...”

 

“No, you’re right. But apparently my particular brand of appeal speaks more to a male aesthetic. Not that I mind that in general, of course, though the idea that I’d want someone _watching_ me to find me attractive...” Shu shakes his head, binding off the sleeve. “Preposterous. I’m far more discerning than that.”

 

“Ehh? Does it bother y’when people think you’re sexy?” Mika flops over onto his stomach, slowly kicking his legs back and forth as he watches Shu sew. “I mean, I like watchin’ you a lot, but I guess that’s different than an audience. But th’ way you move, and sing, and talk...I dunno, I’d think girls would think you were sexy, ‘specially with how rumbly your voice is.” He’s digging his own grave, going on and on about this, probably, but oh well. 

 

“Did you eat your dinner?” Shu snaps, suddenly flustered. If he’s not careful, he’ll become one of those people he despises, lusting after a _human_ that could be his to have, but also his to _hurt_ if he isn’t careful. He knows how to be careful with dolls--it’s safe, as long as Nito is his beautiful doll, blinking when he sits up, with perfect posable arms. But if Shu were ever to let himself get too close, he’d become entangled in his own strings as fast as anything, and no one will be able to direct.

 

“Ah, no, I forgot, sorry--” Mika clambers up to his feet, setting Kuma-kun upright on the floor to dart into the kitchen and grab up a bowl of rice. “D’you want your other croissant, Oshi-san?” he calls over his shoulder. “You gotta be powerful if you’re gonna sew all night~”

 

“I can’t eat while I’m sewing, Kagehira! Use your useless brain--wouldn’t the butter stain the fabric? Besides, I don’t get hungry while I sew.” Two sleeves down. They need some embellishment eventually, but at least he can keep the poor little thing from being _naked_.

 

_I could feed it to you_ is on the tip of his tongue, and boy, does it take some willpower to bite that down. Mika plops back down onto the floor, shoveling rice into his mouth at a rapid pace. “Fair ‘nough,” he agrees. “When you take a break, I’m gonna remind you, though. I forget to eat all the time, too, and then I feel gross, but if we wanna be awesome, we gotta make sure we’ve got fuel, right? I really wanna be able to beat the president if we have t’go against him.”

 

“We’ll crush him into the dirt. Don’t nag, Kagehira, I’ll eat. I’ve had my fill of relying on Ryuu-k--on Kiryuu to carry me home when I pass out from low blood sugar.” Embarrassing, but he barely remembers it at this point, subsumed under the generalized misery of seeing Nito cry. 

 

“Not naggin’, just sympathizin’,” Mika says around a mouthful of rice. “Do you seriously pass out? That sounds scary, I gotta get stronger so I can carry you if that happens.” 

 

“It’s a simple matter of size, if anything. I’m unaccustomed to being this tall, and I rather find it infuriating.” Shu sighs, moving on to the skirt before pausing. “Is this a male bear, or a female bear? Regardless, skirt or trousers?”

 

“I stopped growing in middle school,” Mika grumps, finishing off his bowl of rice in short order and setting it to the side. “You’re lucky you got taller. Your--I mean, you have nice legs.” _That’s not weird to say or anything, geez._ He scoops Kuma-kun up, analyzing him contemplatively. “Boy, but he’d _probably_ look cutest in a skirt.”

 

“Then he’ll have a skirt.” Shu’s fingers pleat quickly, holding the fabric in place as he bastes, not wanting to bother with pins for such a small project. “You’ll have to think of more creative names for them eventually. They can’t all be Kuma-kun. Mm, I suppose I’m unused to people perceiving me as anything other than small and weak, as they did in elementary school. It startles me to know that a strange person--god forbid, a _woman_ \--might see me and think of me as a physical threat. The very idea makes me massively uncomfortable.”

 

“...Oshi-san, they probably just think you’re hot,” Mika points out with a laugh. “You’re not a very scary person. I mean, y’can be intimidatin’, but only t’people you know. Ahh, and you’ll have to help me name them, I’m not good at that part.”

 

Shu gives him a long stare. “My favorite doll’s name is Mademoiselle. Seek help elsewhere.”

 

“Okay, but it’s not a bear named _Kuma-kun_ ,” Mika laughs. “And you can actually _say_ her name, I suck at it. So that’s why she’s Mado-nee. Maybe between the two of us, we can figure it out? It’s like they’re our kids, that’s so cute...and weird,” he adds on an afterthought. “But I like that, so, y’know.” 

 

Shu doesn’t answer for a second, sewing through a few layers of scrap fabric to make the pleats. Finally, he binds off the waistband, folding up another bit of fabric for a belt. “I think of Russians when I think of bears,” he admits. “Or of Rei, my dear friend who’s currently in England, but that’s unimportant. Call him Ivan. Ivan’s skirt is done.”

 

“Ivan,” Mika echoes after a moment, eyeballing the bear for a moment before nodding, accepting this name and starting to carefully dress him with the pieces already done. “Ugh, he’s _so_ cute now, Oshi-san,” he sighs, thunking his head against the ground. “I’m gonna die. You’re the _best_ , why is everythin’ you make so perfect?” 

 

“Haha! Yes, I like that praise. Don’t make it a question, though--just say that it’s all perfect without asking me why.” Shu moves on to the shirt, patterning with quick slices of his scissors. “At least Ivan is a bit less naked, but his nipples are still on display, which we can’t have. Make certain to bring more tomorrow, Kagehira. He needs friends.”

 

“Everythin’ you do is perfect,” Mika dreamily corrects himself, stretching out flat on the ground. “I’ll find _lots_ more, Oshi-san. Our children are gonna be so cuuuute...” 

 

“At least we have a big house. And they don’t need to eat, and require no school bills. Already they’re superior to real children.” Shu hums a little, a song he hasn’t written down yet as he casually whipstitches a seam. “Mind you, I almost always find dolls preferable to humans.”

 

“Mm, that’s fair, though. People--especially guys--they’re scary.” Mika’s eyes lid as he watches Shu’s fingers move, and...yeah, he’s a weirdo for thinking that’s sexy, right? Thank god he’s just gonna stay flat on the floor for awhile. 

 

“You’re afraid of men?” Shu’s fingers don’t pause, but his brow furrows slightly. “You’re not afraid of me.” It doesn’t sound like a question, but it is one.

 

“Uh uh, not afraid of you. You’re nice.” Mika folds his arms, his head plopping his head down onto them. “But most guys are scary. Ah, sorry, I know that’s weird. The really loud ones that play sports, you know, those are the scariest. There’s one in my class and I kinda wanna die every time he shows up...” 

 

“People like that are worthless. If you only care about the body, you neglect the mind...not that you should neglect the body, of course,” Shu says hypocritically as he finishes the shirt. “Here, put this on Ivan. Why don’t I frighten you, Kagehira? I--I made Nito cry, you know.”

 

Mika stretches out a hand, plucking up the shirt and tugging it gently over the teddy bear’s head. “‘cuz you can say some harsh stuff, but you never _do_ anything mean, and you’re always just tryin’ to help. If Nazuna-nii can’t figure out that you’re like that, then...” Mika trails off, shrugging, and pulls Ivan’s coat into place as well, admiring the final result. “Ahh, look at him, Oshi-san! He’s so cute!” 

 

“He’ll do.” The words belie the pride in Shu’s voice at a job well done. The bear does look adorable. “Ah, I just prefer female clothes to male clothes, you know. No one thinks it’s funny if you embellish dresses until the ribbons are dripping to the floor--but try that with a pair of trousers, ha!” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, reaching out to tug at one side of the bear’s skirt. “Very well, that was enjoyable. Give me that croissant, then pick a movie. I’m going to finish our outfits down here tonight.”

 

“I think pants with ribbons would be cute; maybe everyone else’s taste jus’ sucks,” Mika grumbles, plopping the bear down into Shu’s lap as he climbs up to his feet. He makes a concerted effort not to be _too_ happy about being able to fetch Shu’s croissant-- _he’s eating the stuff I got him, yay!--_ and munches on another plum as he peruses Shu’s extensive movie shelf. “I dunno why more boys can’t get away with wearin’ dresses. I don’t think it’s fair, personally.” 

 

“For the same reason I used to get bullied for playing with dolls as a boy, Kagehira. Because everyone is awful and I hate them.” Shu fetches the rest of his materials from upstairs, then settles down in front of the television, pincushion in hand. “Don’t feel the need to stay up with me. Sleep when you get tired.”

 

“I’ll keep you company as long as I can,” Mika enthusiastically says, dragging a pillow over to plop down onto after sticking the first movie he finds that _isn’t_ in French on. He’s not sure he’s quite ready to be that high level, but he _is_ ready to watch Shu sew for as many hours as possible. 


	2. Chapter 2

Going to school is torture. 

 

Mika never enjoyed school in elementary or middle school, but his first year at Yumenosaki Academy had been a game changer. Between following Shu around, checking on Nito constantly, and generally being the envy of the student body, it had been _nice_. Just being a member of Valkyrie often meant people were too intimidated to say anything to him, which, while he disliked being thought of as scary, it also meant that he didn’t have to talk to as many people...and that was nice. 

 

Now, that’s gone. 

 

Going to school means _everyone_ is staring at him, everyone is whispering about him, everyone has something mean or snide to say when he isn’t paying attention or, when he _is_ paying attention. It means walking down the hallway to his homeroom is agonizing, and just being amongst crowds of other students, other _units_ that know about their defeat and the utter, complete shame behind it is nervewracking, especially when Shu is at home, refusing to even leave his bedroom. Mika, as much as he’d like to stay at home, knows he can’t. If his mom gets a phone call about his poor attendance, that’s the end of it, and going home isn’t an option _now,_ not when he’s so desperately, pathetically in lo--

 

“Yo, Valkyrie.”

 

Mika jumps out of his skin, his attempts at fumbling with his locker combination cut short by another student slamming a hand into the locker next to him with a loud clang. He doesn’t recognize them--to be fair, he doesn’t know much of the student body because half of them are terrifying--but this one is taller than him, and normally, Shu is scary enough and close enough to ward off anything like this. _Not this time._ “U-um--”

 

“So is it true? That Valkyrie’s all recordings, and none of you guys can actually sing?” 

 

Mika’s face flushes hot. “That’s...” _It’s not Shu’s fault, it’s not Nito’s fault, it’s no one’s fault, not really--_

 

“Well, you’re not arguing, so it’s probably true.” The student leans in terrifyingly close, and Mika can feel his chest start to tighten up. “Do you think it’s _fair_ that Valkyrie was on top when none of you are _real_ idols? Huh?” 

 

There’s a flurry of movement, a streak of blond hair, a crash, and then Narukami Arashi is standing in front of Mika, beaming sweetly as if he hadn’t just body-checked someone into a locker. “Mika-chan! Walk with me?” 

 

He shoots a smiling death glare to the kid from the accounting course, then loops his arm through Mika’s, striding away amid curses and snaps of _“Shitty okama!”_

 

“What a brute. You’re not hurt, are you, Mika-chan?”

 

Mika has never, _ever_ been more relieved to see Arashi, and he clings to his arm, trying not to shake too badly. “N-no,” he whispers, hanging his head. “Thanks for rescuin’ me, Naru-chan.” _Guys like that are so scary, I wanna die, I wanna die._

 

“I’m not sure what you mean. Ah, sometimes when I’m out running with the track and field club, I just don’t judge my stops very well, you know?” Arashi winks, and tugs Mika out of the hallways, onto the grounds near where the track club is practicing. He’s in his regular school uniform rather than the track one, and arranges Mika between himself and the club. “Hide me, I’m skipping practice. How come you haven’t chatted with me in a while, hmm?” 

 

He knows why, of course. Everyone knows. Valkyrie hadn’t just been defeated, they’d been annihilated--but that’s no reason for Mika to stop _existing_. 

 

Mika spares a wary glance over his shoulder, then back to Arashi, exhaling a long, heavy sigh. “I tried to stay home with Oshi-san for a few days,” he murmurs, rubbing self-consciously at his wrist, plucking at the long hems of his uniform. “But then I realized I’d get in trouble and the school would call my parents...really bad, that’d be really bad.” He frowns, staring down at the ground. “And I don’t wanna...if someone like you hangs around someone from Valkyrie, I’m afraid people will start hatin’ you, too.” 

 

Arashi shrugs. “Nah, I bet it’ll be the other way around. Some of my popularity will just rub off on you instead. Honestly, Mika-chan, Valkyrie isn’t the first group to mess up onstage. You guys’ll recover, and then we’ll all have to fight for our lives again, right? It’s not like anyone got _hurt_.” Not like someone is going to if they don’t manage to rein in Izumi, but that’s just his personal opinion.

 

“Depends on your definition of hurt,” Mika mutters, shaking his head. “Oshi-san...he’s...” _Not okay, not in any sense of the word, and I don’t know what to do._ “He’s in a bad way. He’s such a perfectionist, y’know? An’ I think he would’ve been okay, and been able to bounce back, but then the president...” 

 

Just talking about it makes him want to cry. Mika swallows hard, lifting a hand to furiously scrub it over the back of his eyes, and then compulsively drags some of his bangs over one of them as he heaves a ragged exhale. “I dunno what to do,” he whispers. “Nazuna-nii won’t talk t’either of us, Oshi-san’s...he’s like this, and I just wanna help him. S-sorry, I know this isn’t about you at all, I jus’ don’t have anyone else to talk to and...” 

 

“Shh, it’s fine. Ahh, you’re such a good boy, Mika-chan, I don’t mind if you want to cry on Nee-chan’s shoulder a bit.” Arashi puts a comforting arm around Mika, rubbing at his shoulder. “You thinking of joining another unit? Or maybe you and Itsuki could make a new one, just the two of you? Unless you want to leave him behind--you could join Knights, you know!”

 

“Knights has terrible music and none of y’can dance,” Mika sniffs, shoving his face down into Arashi’s shoulder the second it’s offered, his arms tightly clinging to his waist. “S-sorry. I couldn’t, though, I _couldn’t_ , i-if I left Oshi-san he’d _die_ , and I don’t wanna, besides, even if Valkyrie’s like t-this right now. I’d rather stay in Valkyrie ‘n rot than leave him, _I’d_ die.” 

 

Arashi’s eyes narrow. “I’m just gonna ignore that insult, because I thought you swore to me that nothing immoral was going on between the two of you. You’re talking like he’s your boyfriend.”

 

“‘s not my boyfriend,” comes Mika’s sad, muffled response against Arashi’s shoulder. “If...if I was his boyfriend, m-maybe this wouldn’t have happened...” 

 

_Ohhhh._

 

Arashi gives Mika a gentle pinch, but his smile is sad, and his heart hurts in sympathy. “Ahh. Unrequited love is a bitch, huh? Did he reject you, or is there someone else, or...I mean, I met him once, so I’m pretty sure it’s not that he’s straight.”

 

Mika’s head shakes, still refusing to lift it from Arashi’s shoulder. “Never rejected me, I jus’ didn’t try,” he miserably says. “Oshi-san...h-he always liked Nazuna-nii, I think. But Oshi-san never confessed to Nazuna-nii, not outright, and Nazuna-nii didn’t like him like that anyway, I could tell, so it’s just a _mess_. I wish I had been brave enough t’say somethin’ before. I suck at this. I don’t even know _how_ to make guys like me, ‘cuz I’m usually scared of them, but not Oshi-san, and I...” he trails off, sniffling. “S-sorry. I’m ramblin’.” 

 

“But you’re so _pretty_ , Mika-chan! I mean, it’s a different kind of pretty than Nazuna, sure, but you’re still...I mean, I have to do a _lot_ of makeup to wind up looking this nice, and you just wake up that way. Ugh, unfair!” He reaches into his bag, managing to pull out a pack of tissues wrapped around a coupon for a discounted session at a host cafe. “Wipe your eyes, you need to blow?”

 

A floppy nod follows, and Mika takes the tissues as he straightens off of Arashi’s shoulder, scrubbing at his eyes and then blowing his nose unhappily. “I’m not pretty like Nazuna-nii,” he mumbles. “That’s the point. Oshi-san doesn’t like me like that. We already sleep in the same bed together, you’d think if he did, we’d’ve done somethin’ by now.” 

 

“But have you ever _tried_ to put the moves on him?” Arashi presses. Sure, the fact that Valkyrie imploded is definitely the biggest concern--but if Mika seems to think that the whole thing can be cured by getting Itsuki Shu’s freak on, who’s he to argue? “Are you...I mean, no offense, but are you any good at getting men to sleep with you, Mika-chan?”

 

Mika hesitates, biting his lip as he glances away. “I _thought_ I would be,” he frets, starting to pick at his hems again. “But ‘s not like I’ve ever done it. I’d probably suck at it, my mom says guys can tell when you’re not gonna be what they want, y’know? Ahhh, I’m so stupid,” he groans, wiping both hands down his face. “Everyone thinks I’m weird-lookin’ because of my eyes anyway, there’s no way that Oshi-san would be into me, and that’s not gonna _fix_ anything...” 

 

Arashi cocks his head, then beckons, leading Mika behind the team clubhouse to sit on the grassy slope. The autumn winds nip at their cheeks, but his are flushed from the brisk walk anyway, and he leans back on his hands. “I heard he hasn’t come to school since the Live. You live with him, though--is he talking to you?”

 

Flopping down onto the grass, Mika shrugs helplessly, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Sometimes. But not really. He jus’ hides in his bedroom, and I check on him to make sure he eats _somethin’_ , but even that’s rough...I dunno what else t’do, really. We still sleep together...should I just kiss him? That seems like it might scare him right now...” 

 

“Seems like a lot of stuff scares him. I dunno, Mika-chan--everyone always talks about how scary he is, right? But you talk about him like he’s a fabrige egg.” Arashi worms his way closer, wondering if he can get away with being sort of handsy when Mika’s in this state. 

 

“He’s _totally_ an egg,” Mika groans, flopping sideways against Arashi and stuffing his face directly into his neck. “A really, really sexy egg. That sounds weird. But y’know what I mean! Naru-chaaaan, you’ve kissed someone before, right? How’d you do it? I’m scared he’s gonna look at me weird, or get really upset, but at this point, I dunno what’ll snap him out of this ‘cept for somethin’ really extreme and there’s only so much good croissants can do...” 

 

“I don’t know what kinda weird shit you guys do with croissants, but I wouldn’t _lead_ with that,” Arashi laughs. He wraps an arm around Mika’s shoulders, then suggests brightly, “Practice kissing on me. Show me how you’d do it. That’ll be fun, right?” It’ll be fun for _him_ , at least.

 

Mika lifts his head, warily looking back at Arashi. “...Is that a thing?” he nervously asks. “I mean, you like someone, too, right? Ahh, I’ve never kissed anyone before, I’d be bad at it...” 

 

“Would you rather be bad at it with me, who is cool and cute and funny and sweet, or with your Oshi-san?”

 

Something akin to panic immediately flickers across Mika’s face. “F-fair enough,” he mumbles, his cheeks flushing hot. “I don’t want to be bad at it with him. Promise you won’t laugh at me if I’m terrible?” 

 

“I’ll probably laugh, but in a friendly way,” Arashi assures him. “To lighten the mood and stuff. And I’m totally in love with someone else, so you don’t have to worry that I’ll get weird about it. I just like kissing cute boys!”

 

“I’m not anywhere near as cute as you,” Mika helplessly says, biting his lip as he glances away. “But...o-okay, if you promise you won’t get weird...” 

 

Arashi _is_ really cute. It’s kind of startling that he _is_ this cute, to be honest, especially when Mika used to be so scared of him (when he had dark hair, acted like a jock, was bossy and loud on top of it). Perfect skin and perfect hair is intimidating, though, and so are perfect lips, and Mika exhales a soft, nervous breath when he leans in, warily thumbing the line of Arashi’s jaw before he tilts his head to press their lips together. 

 

Okay, Mika might not need as much help as Arashi had thought. He’s a little hesitant, sure, but his lips are soft and searching, and he doesn’t smell weird, and really that’s about all he needs to make a kiss not-terrible.

 

He holds still for a moment, not wanting to be scary when Mika is so skittish, simply enjoying being kissed by a pretty boy who isn’t running away or stuttering out how it was a mistake and never should have happened. Then, eyes closed, he parts his lips, swiping the tip of his tongue against Mika’s lips, leaning up just a bit with a slow sigh.

 

Mika sucks in a quick breath through his nose, embarrassed by how quickly his face heats up at just that single, soft little swipe of Arashi’s tongue. His own mouth parts instinctively, his teeth a gentle scrape against Arashi’s lower lip before his own tongue presses against Arashi’s, and then slips past his lips to get a proper taste--because that’s the point of kissing, right? Or so says the little chill that rakes down the back of his neck, because he’s _never_ gotten a chance to kiss a boy, let alone a boy as handsome as Arashi.

 

Arashi is starting to think that Mika is actually a little bit _unfairly_ good at this, if the spreading warmth down the back of his neck is any indication. His breath hitches, and his hand moves up to tug at Mika’s hair, tugging him down as his mouth parts further, allowing Mika to lick and taste at will, sliding his own tongue along Mika’s, slick and hot and wet like electricity sparking at every point of contact. 

 

As soon as his hand comes up to rest at Mika’s chest, he pulls back, catching his breath with a hiccup of a little laugh. “Ah...Mika-chan, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re, ah, hell, you’re a natural. You sure that was your first kiss with a boy?”

 

Mika blinks back at him blearily, cheeks flushed and lips wet, and he swallows, wiping at his mouth as he hurriedly glances away. “Ah...um...y-yeah...I dunno, I just kinda go with instinct? Also, y’taste good.” That makes him blush harder, of course, but hopefully Arashi thinks that’s a compliment and not something super weird. 

 

“Ha ha...whoops, I slipped,” Arashi says cheerfully in advance, then rolls them over, pressing Mika’s back down to the grass. Then he surges down, taking Mika’s lips in a harder kiss this time, tongue plunging in to taste Mika’s mouth deeply, hands curling in the warm, dying autumn grass.

 

_Arashi being that bold is unexpected, but not unwanted—not right now, not when touching and contact feels so good after solid weeks of stress and strangeness and terrible things happening. Mika whimpers before he can stop himself, his hands curling helplessly at his sides for a moment before he grabs at Arashi’s back, dragging his fingers up and into his hair._

 

Arashi _clearly_  knows what he’s doing. Mika doesn’t, but he’s not stupid enough to know that some things just feel better if he follows along, and sucking on Arashi’s tongue when it slides against his tongue makes his own breath hiccup and catch in his chest. _Maybe if I get to kiss Shu like this, just once, he’ll be into me, even a tiny bit._

 

Arashi’s eyes sparkle when he pulls back for a second, then dives right back in. “Mika-chan is gonna make me be naughty at school,” he breathes, voice dropping lower than his usual affected speech. “Or maybe...after school, we could--”

 

“Naru-kun, you’re late for fucking--oh.”  


Sena Izumi’s mouth twists, staring at the two boys laying on the grass. “Gross. And you’re late for practice.”

 

Arashi’s smile could cut glass. He shifts, getting his back between Mika and Izumi, not wanting to subject the boy to that. “Izumi-chan, be a good boy and make my excuses. I’ll be at practice soon.”

 

“Fuck practice,” Izumi snarls, trying to lean around and see who Arashi’s hiding, with no success. “We’ve got a gravure shoot, that travel agency shit. Oi, who’ve you got there?”

 

“None of your business!”

 

If there’s _one_  boy at school that scares Mika more than anyone, it’s Sena Izumi. Not even Tenshouin Eichi makes his skin crawl quite as much ( _especially_  after some of the things Arashi told him), and the idea of being caught like this by someone _apparently_  notorious for blackmail makes his heart thud up into his throat. 

 

The urge to run is a pretty darn strong one, but instead, Mika freezes, clinging to Arashi, burying his face into his neck and hoping Izumi doesn’t push the issue. “If y’need to go to practice, t-that’s fine,” Mika whispers. _Just don’t let him stick around here, he’s scary, really scary._

 

“Shh, don’t make me sit on you,” Arashi whispers back, then flips up the hem of Mika’s shirt, tugging it over his head to hide his face. “I’ll be there in a minute, Izumi-chan. If you don’t drop it, I’ll think you’re jealous that I’m kissing someone else besides you. Hmm, remember last time you had your tongue down my--”

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Izumi kicks a rock, which goes wide down the hill, rolling onto the track. “Fucking piece of shit okama! Ugh, I’m not covering for you!” With that (and cheeks bright red), he turns and stalks back down the hill, grumbling and cursing to himself the whole way. 

 

Arashi sits back on his heels, tugging Mika’s shirt down. “Sorry, Mika-chan. He’s not a bad person, really. Mm, but I don’t think he got a good look.”

 

“He’s scary,” Mika murmurs, warily staring after Izumi’s retreating back. “You’re not gonna tell him about me, are you? Please don’t.” _Because I really like you and this is fun but oh god I’m pretty sure that’s the kinda guy that wants to beat me up._

 

“Mika-chan, if I were going to tell him, I wouldn’t have just hidden your face.” Arashi smirks. “And if he finds out, he’ll keep it quiet, or I’ll tell everyone how much he likes fooling around after gravure shoots. Ah, speaking of those shoots, looks like I’d better go, or he’ll get all the good bits.” He hovers for a moment, brushing grass clippings off of his uniform. “Want to come over tomorrow afternoon? To my place?” Worth a shot.

 

Mika’s hesitation is palpable. If Arashi had asked that a few minutes ago, when his tongue was still down his throat, then he probably would have dumbly nodded and agreed, but… “So long as Oshi-san doesn’t need me for anything,” he finally settles upon, plucking at some of the grass underneath his fingers. Practice _does_  make perfect, after all, and if nothing else, he wants to be _really_  perfect the first time he kisses Shu.

 

“You don’t have to,” Arashi assures him with a tug to one lock of hair. “But I’ll be really fun if you do. You can change your mind, but let me know tomorrow for sure. Good luck with Itsuki!” He waves, then turns to jog down the hill faster than most students run, with as much visible effort as if he were strolling.

 

Wistfully, Mika wonders what it’s like to be so confident, so collected, so damn _cool…_ but with that apparently comes the responsibility of dealing with someone like Izumi, so Mika will take being a nervous wreck and living with Itsuki Shu any day of the week. 

 

At least the rest of the day goes on without incident, and returning home to a quiet house isn’t the worst thing when he wants a few hours to practice by himself. Today’s one of those days that Shu refuses to even look at croissants, and Mika takes it with a grain of salt, leaving them on his nightstand anyway where Shu is huddled up in bed, also refusing to get up. _If I could just tell him outright that I was in love with him, this would be so much easier,_ Mika wearily thinks, but instead, he just ends up huddled up into bed with Shu like always, because at least Shu doesn’t push him away then. 

 

Mika is _fast_  when it comes to making his way through the halls of school the next day, not wanting to be caught in another altercation. No one talks to him, no one calls on him in class, and no one looks at him when he picks up another part-time job at school, scrubbing away at dishes. It’s actually nice being ignored like this, and slowly, _slowly_  the credit in Valkyrie’s account builds. _Soon enough, I can make Oshi-san happy with this, if nothing else._

 

After staring longingly at one of the practice rooms that used to be all but permanently booked for Valkyrie, Mika escapes his last class of the day, and frowns down at his phone. 

 

**To: Naru-chan**

**can i still come over? i’ll meet u at the track after your practice if yes?**

 

Sometimes, anything is better than the same thing over and over again, and Arashi is not just a substitute, but a balm to his nerves.

 

To: Mika-chan

**thoght u’d never ask! ⁽(◍˃̵͈̑ᴗ˂̵͈̑)⁽ See u after practice!**

 

Arashi is sweaty and flushed after practice, slapping Adonis and Mitsuru on the shoulders, pinching cheeks and laughing as he makes his way over to Mika’s nervous figure. Passing the stands, he hears a little murmur-- _”What’s he doing here? Didn’t their unit get disbanded? I can’t believe he’s allowed to stay at this school.”_ \--and bites back a sigh. He might not be able to do anything about the way the student body sees Mika, but at least he might be able to get the poor kid to stop looking so sad. “Yo, Mika-chan! You brought your homework, right?”

 

**Mika jumps, nearly dropping his phone from where he keeps frantically checking for texts from Shu, _just in case_ , and nods in a kneejerk response. “Y-yeah. Was practice good?” At least with Arashi here and talking to him, he can tune out some of the stares and whispering—kind of.**

 

“Pretty good. My boys are working hard, so I’m happy!” Arashi shoulders his bag, then sets off for the school gate. “You have a train pass, right? I know you’re from Kansai. If not, we can walk, but it’s about an hour.” _I know you’re broke_ , is the unspoken addendum.

 

“I don’t mind walkin’.” If anything, keeping pace with Arashi for an hour will help him stay in shape when he doesn’t have grueling practices with Shu every single day. Mika forces himself to stuff his phone into his bag as he follows after, convinced that Shu isn’t going to text him in the next fifteen minutes, at least. “At least it’s a nice day,” he sighs, hanging his head. “Last year, it got cold so fast up here…ahh, sometimes I really miss livin’ down south…”

 

“Have...I mean, I don’t want you to go, but have you thought about going back home? Oh, tell me if I walk too fast, I do that.” The pace might feel slow to him, but he’s learned over the years that his pace isn’t exactly average. “I just mean, you seem really unhappy a lot of the time, Mika-chan.”

 

“You’re fine, don’t worry ‘bout it, it’s good exercise when I don’t have Oshi-san beatin’ me into shape,” Mika dismisses with a wave of one hand. “Goin’ back home…I really can’t. I can’t leave Oshi-san, and ‘m pretty sure my parents would kill me. ‘All that for nothin’’, they’d say—my mom would yell at me ‘cuz I haven’t been around to clean, my dad would yell because he likes yellin’ and it would give him a reason…” Mika shivers, shaking his head. “No thanks.” 

 

“Ah. Your parents sound...hmm. Like something.” What’s a tactful way to say ‘your parents sound like shit’? “Well, as long as you’re not going home, I guess that’s fine. Hey, sorry to change the subject, but did you see what Kunugi-sensei was wearing today? He looks soooo good in green, I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest.”

 

“You’ve got it _bad_ , Naru-chan,” Mika sighs, though not without deep affection in his voice. “You really should jus’ confess to him at the end of the year or somethin’. Then maybe you can date your teacher in secret, wouldn’t that be kinda hot?” 

 

“Um, super hot?” Arashi laughs, brushing the hair back from his face. “Ugh, I’d be so nervous. I mean, it’s not like I’d even be against the idea of a quickie in the teacher’s room whenever he wanted either, you know? But I don’t want to get kicked out of school for asking! Life is hard.”

 

After making sure there’s no one around to overhear him with a quick glance, Mika casually, and very bluntly says, “Maybe you should jus’ crawl underneath his desk and blow him.”

 

Arashi lets out a high, delighted peal of laughter, almost falling against the wall in pleased surprise. “Oh my god, Mika-chan, you’re nasty! Ah, god, maybe you’re right. I don’t mind being a bad girl sometimes, you know? You sound like you know plenty about that for someone who just had her first kiss yesterday.”

 

“Jus’ because I’ve never done it doesn’t mean I don’t know about that kinda stuff!” Mika protests, willing his face to stop heating up, but it just _won’t._  “I mean, I’m pretty surprised y’haven’t just _done it_  with him, what with how much you’re into him. And you’re way braver than I am ‘bout it, and sexier, so you could get away with it, I bet…”

 

“Buuuuut I really _like_ hiiiim,” Arashi whines. He adjusts his bag strap, annoyed with the way it bangs into his leg when he walks. “So I just beg Izumi to blow me and call him Sensei, it works okay and I don’t mess up anything with someone I really look up to. Not great, but okay.”

 

“I’d be afraid that guy would bite it off,” Mika mutters, shaking his head in disgust. “Sorry. I know he’s in your unit, but he freaks me out. Ugh. I’ve been tryin’ t’work up the courage to just blow Oshi-san in his sleep or somethin’, but every time I think I’ve got it, he wakes up, and I just…” He helplessly shrugs.

 

Arashi’s sculpted eyebrows shoot up. “I wasn’t wrong when I said your living situation was immoral,” he says, mentally changing up his estimation of Mika’s bravery. “Ah...okay, listen, don’t be mad, okay? But like...what is it you like about that guy? Seriously, explain the appeal, because you’re one of the hottest guys I’ve ever met, and he’s crazy, Mika-chan.”

 

“…I’m _really_  not that hot,” Mika says with a nervous laugh. “And…I’m not mad, I get it. I know Oshi-san’s kinda scary to a lot of people.” He shrugs his bag further up on his shoulder, and idly picks at one of his sleeves—which really need to be repaired at this point, but Shu’s the one that does that, typically, and it feels weird to do it himself. “He’s the nicest guy I’ve ever met, though. I know t’you that sounds crazy, but you’ve never spent the time around him that I have. Oshi-san works super hard, and it’s all for other people. I hadn’t even been here for a week before he invited me to live with him ‘cuz he knew I couldn’t afford to keep goin’ back and forth to Kansai, and he took me home and cooked me dinner and even baked me a cake when I told him I liked sweets. He doesn’t just let me keep all my stuffed animals at his house, but he sits down with me and makes them clothes, and he makes _me_  clothes all the time, not jus’ for Valkyrie. And he compliments me all the time, an’…” 

 

Mika trails off, suddenly embarrassed, and he shrugs again, glancing down at the ground. “I dunno, I think he’s really hot, too. He’s such a good dancer, and his voice is all low and rumbly when you get your ear on his chest…and he’s so tall, and normally tall guys scare me, but he’s so gentle…”

 

Arashi gives Mika an inscrutable look, then sighs. “Well, shit. You sure do make him sound like a prince, you know. Lucky for you, my heart’s already taken, or I might want to take your gentle deep-voiced generous genius for a spin myself.”

 

“He’d probably like you ‘cuz you’re blonde,” Mika sulkily says. “Or maybe not, because you like sports. But Nazuna-nii’s the captain of the tennis club, so what do I know. It’s probably just the blonde thing.” 

 

“You said they weren’t a thing, right? I mean, you live with him, so I’m sure you’d know if he was sneaking around with the Broadcast Committee Boss on the sly, right?” Arashi’s eyes sparkle, legs quickening without him meaning for them to. “If not, does that mean your big strong cool beau is a virgin, do you think?”

 

“He’s definitely a virgin,” Mika wistfully says, trotting for a second to catch up before falling into a brisk walk again. “Sometimes I think he’s not interested in sex at all, actually. The way he’s so clinical about touchin’ people, and how he talks about my ‘sex appeal’—“ Said with air quotes, because Mika just has to roll his eyes about it. “I dunno, it’s frustratin’. I kept hopin’ he’d just shove me against a wall or somethin’, but then I realized he’s like, 2000% into Nazuna-nii, not me…so it’s not even worth thinkin’ about, I guess.”

 

“Uh...I mean, you’d know best,” Arashi says skeptically, “but fun fact, if they weren’t doing it, he’s totally fair game. Just like Kunugi-sensei--sure, I’m pretty sure he’s head over heels for Sagami-sensei, but that doesn’t mean he’s not _available_. What does Itsuki’s family think about you living there, hmm?”

 

“Uhh…I don’t think they know.”

 

Arashi blinks. “Does he--does he sneak you in every night, or something?”

 

“He lives alone. Or he did, before I moved in.” Mika shrugs. “His parents live in another house and they, uh, pretty much ignore him. I mean, I can’t complain, I guess…I’d be terrified if his parents lived there.” 

 

Arashi whistles low under his breath. “Yeesh...he sounds like a pretty lonely person. I mean, if he lives alone, and he’s in tragically unrequited love...he should be a little more grateful to you!”

 

“Jus’ because I have a crush on him doesn’t mean he has to be grateful to me,” Mika protests. “I jus’ wish I could make him feel better. Ahh, I feel bad enough not goin’ home right away tonight, he’s probably gonna get worried,” he frets, resisting the urge to grab for his phone again. “But…but I have to get away, at least for a few hours, or I’m gonna go insane.” Tears prick into his eyes suddenly, and he exhales a hard breath as he blinks hard. “I jus’ need a break, for like, a few hours, and then I’ll be able to keep tryin’.” 

 

Arashi itches to say something--something like _It’s not your fault he’s freaking crazy and it’s not your job to fix him_ \--but the words won’t come. He probably wouldn’t listen to something like that about someone he cared about, either. “Shh, it’s fine, Mika-chan. We’ll have some fun tonight, and you can recharge and think about _yourself_ for once, and then you can go home and be way more ready to help your beloved mentor. Sound good?”

 

“Y-yeah. That sounds really good.” Mika lifts a hand, scrubbing firmly at his eyes. “Thanks, Naru-chan. You’re the best. Seriously. Sorry if I’m boring and lame, though. I’ve never been over to a friend’s house before, and you know I’ve never, uh…yeah, anythin’ else.” If this is an evening of making out with Arashi, though, he’s ready to sign up.

 

Arashi squeezes Mika’s hand, tugging him left down a side alley. “We can do whatever you want,” he says cheerfully. “I’ve got board games, makeup, a pool, and condoms. Hell, we can do homework if you want.”

 

“I really don’t wanna do homework,” Mika says with a laugh, obediently trotting after Arashi. “You have a pool? Geez, Naru-chan…” 

 

“Whoa, I’m not rich or anything,” Arashi laughs. “It’s an apartment building, we all share it. Ooh, you get to meet Nyaanko-chan! You’re not allergic to kitties, are you?”

 

“You have a kitty?” Mika’s eyes light up, and he clutches tighter to Arashi’s hand. “No way, I love kitties! Does she like being held? Ahh, sorry, I wasn’t allowed to have pets, still aren’t, Oshi-san’s weird about dander, so I’m prob’ly not gonna stop pettin’ her, fair warning!”

 

Seeing Mika’s face light up is its own kind of reward, and Arashi gives into the urge to grab him close and squeeze tight. “Ahhh, Mika-chan, you’re so _cute_ , it’s not my fault if I never want to let you go! Nyaanko-chan is going to _love_ you, she’s got great taste.”

 

“Naru-chaaan, you hug really hard,” Mika whines in half-hearted protest, even as he loops his arms around Arashi’s neck and lets himself basically dangle there. “You can steal me for the night, s’okay. I won’t even blame you if I come home covered in cat hair.” 

 

“Excuse you, I brush her out every day and my mom is _weird_ about vacuuming. You’ve probably got more cat hair on you now than you will when you leave. Hey, see that building by the Mister Donut? The tall brown one? That’s me. Wanna race there?”

 

Mika plucks his bag off of his own shoulder and plops it onto Arashi’s. “Handicap.” 

 

“Ohh, you’re _on!_ ” Arashi takes off, both bags whacking together behind his back. “Ehhh....no fair!!! I’m all tired from practiiiiiice!”

 

‘Tired from practice’ means Arashi is still basically untouchable, and Mika considers himself to be in _pretty_  good shape. Arashi still could have lapped him twice over, and Mika’s chest heaves when he arrives a solid thirty seconds behind, glowering at the other boy. “You’re…not fair,” he huffs, shoving his hair out of his face. “Naru-chan, your kitty better be super cute. Why d’you _always_  wanna run places?” 

 

Arashi dumps both bags on Mika for that, making a show of wiping away a single drop of sweat from his hairline. “Because I look good doing it, of course.” He uses his key to let them into the lobby, then into the elevator, pressing the button for the ninth floor. “Uhhh, sorry about my brother. He’s dumb, but I’ll kill him if he bothers you. He’ll probably just grab some food and run back to his room--there’s some college girl he’s failing to date, so he spends all his time working out in there. Sad, really.”

 

Mika sways wearily into the elevator, flopping back against the wall. “Can we jus’ hide in your room?” he hopefully suggests. “I’m so bad with new people that I don’t wanna make your family think you’ve got a weird friend or somethin’.” He was bad enough with _Arashi_  the first time he met him, after all.

 

“Oh, definitely.” The elevator dings, and Arashi tugs him out, pointing towards a door. “I’m gonna go in, you just come in after me and go left to my room while I talk to my mom real quick. My name’s on the door.” 

 

Mika nods, relieved. At least Arashi _gets it_ , and gets _him_ , and that’s probably the best thing in the world to realize in moments like these.

 

Arashi’s apartment is clean and bright and airy, and entirely unlike every place he’s ever lived. Fortunately, it’s not difficult to find the room in question—and scoop up the cat that comes trotting up at the same time before Mika darts inside, shutting the door behind him in short order.

 

Flopping down onto Arashi’s floor with his cute, cute cat is probably the most relaxing thing Mika has done in a year, especially when Nyaanko stars purring noisily. Mika tries not to start crying into the cat, which would probably be a weird new low for him. “You’re jus’ so cute,” he sniffs, tugging out his phone to take a picture of the fluffy thing.

 

Arashi pauses in the doorway before slinking inside, sliding the door shut behind him, then flopping down on the floor next to Mika. “Good, you met my princess. Nyaanko-chan. Nyaanko-chan--listen to me, brat, stop purring at him and pay attention to the person that feeds you.”

 

“She’s so cuuute,” Mika groans, listing slowly to the side and cuddling the cat to his chest. She doesn’t even _struggle._  She just starts kneading her enormous, fluffy paws into his chest. “Naru-chan. Naru-chan, I’m gonna die. Why didn’t y’tell me about your cat before.”

 

“She’s a naughty brat,” Arashi says fondly, reaching out to pet Nyaanko's ears, which she twitches immediately away from, rubbing her head against Mika’s shoulder instead. “And apparently, she’s a slut who only wants you. Wow, guess who’s not getting catnip tonight?”

 

“Don’t deny her, she’s a good girl,” Mika mumbles, sniffling again when Nyaanko just starts licking his face, like she’s a dog or something! Cats aren’t supposed to be like this, what the heck. “Naru-chan, help…” 

 

Arashi flops back onto the floor, grabbing a fashion magazine. “Nope, she’s got you now. There’s no escape. She’s tenderizing you before eating you whole.”

 

“I can’t wait t’die,” Mika agrees, shutting his eyes when the cat licks a stripe across his nose, and then suddenly squirms away, bouncing over him to leap onto the nearest bookshelf and groom herself fiercely. Cats are fickle things, aren’t they? Mika sighs, slowly rolling across the floor, and plops his head right down into Arashi’s lap. “Pet me.” 

 

Arashi sets the magazine on top of Mika’s head, then tosses it away, suddenly leaping on him with eager fingers, seeking out sensitive spots. “Hey, are you ticklish? Are you? Heeehhhh?”

 

“You can’t win with that one,” Mika hums, cheerfully (and limply) flopping across the floor. “Got too used to Oshi-san pokin’ and proddin’ at me, so I’m immune.” Or so he says, until Arashi’s fingers prod just right at his ribs, and he stifles a squeak, swatting reflexively at Arashi’s hands. “ _Oi._ ” 

 

“Ha!” Arashi beams, then tugs Mika close, fingers carding through his hair, playing with the soft strands. “Mika-chan...it sucks not to have any other girl friends, you know? You get what I mean.”

 

_I’m not a girl_  is the knee-jerk response on his tongue, but at the same time, Mika _does_  know what Arashi means. “…It’s weird,” Mika murmurs, butting his head into Arashi’s fingers, petting a hand absently down his back. “There’s a ton of guys at school that like other guys, I’m pretty sure…but I don’t think most of them are like us. Are we really that strange?” 

 

“They get snippy about it. Or they get scared that everyone’ll figure it out, so they start acting like assholes about it, where if they just acted _casual_ , no one would have a thing to say...” It’s a long and familiar rant, and Arashi huffs out a breath, fingers scritching gently at Mika’s scalp. “I dunno, I’d rather just do the best I can and be true to myself. Better that than driving myself crazy over a guy that’s terrified of me and getting to the point that I actually _kidnap_ him, and--”

 

He cuts himself off, teeth gritted. “Sorry. Still mad about knights’s reputation suffering.”

 

“…That’s why that guy’s sooo scary,” Mika points out with a soft, nervous little laugh. “I mean, I’m crazy about Oshi-san but I’d never do somethin’ like that.” He buts his head gently against Arashi’s touch, unabashedly savoring it now that they’re behind a closed door. “I get not wanting people to know, but…I dunno, bein’ super mean about it is just gonna make people think you’re more obvious.”

 

“If he ever gives you a hard time, you just fetch me, okay?” Arashi likes the way Mika gets so shameless about the touching, like he’s touch-starved and has been for years. _Time to do something about that, yay!_ “Ahhh, Mika-chan, you’re so pretty even without makeup, I’m totally jealous. I love your hair, you know?”

 

“‘m not anywhere near as pretty as you, Naru-chan,” Mika protests, shutting his eyes as he sags into Arashi’s touch with a content sigh all the same. “You always look so put t’gether, I’m gross. I’d look bad as a blonde, though, so there’s no hope there...” 

 

Arashi is warm and smells nice (even after all that running! how?!) and _is_ nice (to him, at least) _,_ unlike just about every other guy Mika knows, and it’s safe to assume he’s not going to die at this point, after already being kissed by him before. He paws at Arashi’s back as he leans up enough to butt his face against Arashi’s neck. “We can fool around, if you want,” he murmurs. “‘s not like you have to beg me for anythin’, just tell me what to do.” Which _has_ to sound better than how Arashi has to convince Izumi to do stuff, which is really, really gross, anyway.

 

Well, that’s a sudden surge of interest! 

 

Arashi is a little surprised at how quickly he reacts to that--he’s more experienced, he’s a bit older, and he’d been sure that he’d be a sort of Wife of Bath character here, gently teaching Mika everything he needs to know so that both of them can pine after strict older men together. But when Mika nuzzles into his neck, his breath quickens, and he finds himself feeling oddly eager. “Mika-chan...ahhh, you’re spoiling me now. No fair, I’m gonna teach you something fun. You won’t spook if I grab you, right?” His hand trails down, pressing against Mika’s upper thigh, a clear statement of intention without (hopefully) being _too_ frightening.

 

Mika’s breath hitches, and he shakes his head, his fingers curling against Arashi’s back. “You’re not scary, Naru-chan, so it’s fine,” he says, shifting uncertainly, just not entirely sure what to _do_ with himself. “Um--jus’ one rule? No hickeys.” He’s seen handfuls of their classmates show up with them, and Shu has remarked on how disgusting they look when they’re on people he dislikes before--so that probably wouldn’t be a good idea to show up at home with. 

 

“Oohhh my god, Mika-chan, if you leave a hickey on me I probably won’t go to school for a week,” Arashi says with a laugh. “I’m a _model_ , seriously, I know better.”

 

Then without further warning, he pins Mika to the ground, wriggling down to straddle his knees, unfastening the buckle of his school uniform trousers. “You’ve had a rough month, so let Nee-chan treat you, okay? You’ve never had a blowjob, right?”

 

Mika swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry and words catching up in his throat. “N-nope,” he squeaks out, his face heating up just at the sight of Arashi’s long, manicured fingers unfastening his belt. “Never. I-is that really okay, I don’t mind doin’ it for you instead...” Either way is good, actually, because Arashi is _so_ pretty and it’s embarrassing how hard he is just _thinking_ about it. 

 

“Don’t walk before you run, Mika-chan. How am I supposed to get a good one from you if you don’t know what you’re doing?” 

 

Just like that, his hands reach down, quick and no-nonsense, tugging down trousers and underwear all at once. “Oh, it’s really nice! Mm, and clean, you smell good.” He brushes his hair back behind his ear, then leans down and licks a stripe up the underside of Mika’s cock, swirling his tongue around the head at the end.

 

For probably the twentieth time today, Mika wonders how Arashi is so _collected_ in everything he does--and blowjobs are apparently included in that mix, which seems like a thing to be less collected about, actually!! Or so says his body, when that first, surprising shock of pleasure makes him stifle a broken groan into his sleeve, and try very, _very_ hard not to just buck up into Arashi’s mouth. His chest heaves from that particular effort, his cock leaking against that warm, wet tongue, and his other hand fists against the floor. “N...Naru-chan,” Mika groans, covering his face with his arm. If this is supposed to be a learning experience, too bad, because his mind is basically a fuzzy blob already. 

 

Arashi pulls off with a wet pop, grabbing a pillow from his bed and tossing it at Mika’s face. “Hold on, I’ll put some music on too. Then Mom won’t hear anything. Whoops, should have done that first!” 

 

A touch to his computer, and an upbeat techno song starts threading through the room at a moderate volume, enough to obscure the occasional groan. It would be _no_ fun if his mom decided that this was a fun day for coming home from the grocery store early!

 

Then he settles back, nuzzling up against the soft wet skin, running his mouth over the side. “You can touch my hair,” he murmurs, eyes lidded as he looks up at Mika. The taste is heady, going right to his cock and curling around it, and he flicks his tongue into the slit, tasting the moisture beading there already. 

 

Mika immediately twists his head to stuff his face into the pillow, the cool fabric a balm to how hot his face feels right now. “Naru-chan looks way too sexy down there,” he whispers, sucking in a ragged breath when Arashi’s tongue drags against the head of his cock again, and he stifles a whimper as he bites down into the pillow. Pawing a hand down blindly, his fingers curl shakily into Arashi’s hair, trying not to pull, but unable to stop from clinging like it’s his last life line. “I...d-don’t laugh if I come really fast, o-okay? Your mouth is...” 

 

“It’s your first time, do whatever you want,” Arashi assures him, then plunges down again. He doesn’t bother trying to deep-throat--Mika wouldn’t know the difference anyway, and getting all red and blotchy is _not_ his best look--but strokes the base with his hand, licking and sucking on the head with urgent little grunts and moans, sloppy wet noises filtering up. 

 

Arashi _really_ shouldn’t’ve given him permission, because between the visual, and those _noises_ , and the way his cock throbs every single time the head of his cock rubs against Arashi’s tongue, Mika knows this isn’t going to last long. 

 

It’s not like he’s ever been _trying_ for anything but speed, anyway--how many times has he been in a hurry, afraid Shu will overhear, especially if he’s whispering his name? Mika whimpers, holding the pillow over his face, almost hoping he suffocates when he can’t stop thinking about how _Itsuki Shu_ might look between his legs, or better, if he could just get up the nerve to crawl between Shu’s thighs in the middle of the night and--

 

With a ragged, broken gasp, he comes, spilling hot and wet over Arashi’s tongue, and twists partially away automatically, overstimulated and trembling down to his toes. “S-sorry, Naru-chan,” he groans, keeping his face in the pillow for as long as he can stand it. “Sorry, god, you’re _so_ good at that--”

 

Arashi is delicate at reaching for a tissue, disposing of the mess without any gross spitting noises because he’s _good_ at this part, at least. Then he sits up, beaming as he tosses the tissue into the trash can by the bed (to join multiple other tissues from other days). “Mm, no need to apologize, Mika-chan. You know, it’s not like anyone wants to have a dick in their mouth for that long, you know? So the faster you can do it, the better, because then they get to show off their best tricks without getting tired.”

 

“Oshi-san could take forever and I wouldn’t mind,” Mika dreamily mutters, splaying out on the floor and pawing absently in Arashi’s general direction. “Naru-chaaaan. Naru-chan, come here, cuddle me, you’re so pretty.” 

 

“I know, right?” 

 

Arashi tugs Mika back onto his lap, nuzzling into his neck. “Just so you know--I know you get kinda scared about stuff sometimes, so just so you know, you’ve got a really nice cock and you don’t taste weird. Nothing to be worried about.”

 

Mika breathes a long sigh of relief as he flops against Arashi, nuzzling against him. “Ahhh, I’m glad. I mean, I don’t think Oshi-san would wanna do something like that to me, he’s really weird about what goes into his mouth, but that’s okay. I just wanna be able to make him feel good.” 

 

“You were paying attention, right?” Arashi wriggles a hand. “Blowjobs are all about hands, unless you want to choke and cough and gag. It’s like a magic trick. And you can keep going with hands _forever_.”

 

Arashi smells _so_ good, and Mika stuffs his face firmly into Arashi’s neck, mouthing a kiss there as he snuggles close. “Lemme try it on you,” he pleads, one hand tugging tentatively at the waistband of Arashi’s pants. “Y’can tell me what I do wrong, I wanna be really good at it for Oshi-san...” 

 

Arashi puts a hand over Mika’s, warningly. “I just went to practice, you want me to shower first? I might be pretty sweaty, and I don’t want you to think boys are gross down there.”

 

Mika grumbles, going for Arashi’s earrings this time when his mouth travels further up his neck and to his earlobe. “If y’don’t care, I don’t care,” he bluntly says. “How gross can you be, you’re _Naru-chan._ ” 

 

“Don’t _bite_ ,” Arashi yelps, wriggling around until he’s comfortable, then hooking a thumb in his waistband, tugging it down. “Put your mouth down there, then, but if you say I smell bad I’ll honestly die.”

 

“I’m not gonna say that,” Mika reassures him, eagerly wriggling down between Arashi’s legs. A flutter of nerves makes him hesitate, just for a second, but he helps tug Arashi’s shorts the rest of the way down, and his anxiety fizzles away with a dry mouth and a thudding pulse. “...Y’ever just _know_ you’re a homo?” he says with a laugh at himself as he nuzzles at he inside of one of Arashi’s thighs. “You’re so beautiful, Naru-chan.” 

 

Arashi’s laughter is a clear, tinkling peal as he spreads his legs, leaning back on his hands. “All the time, darling. Mika-chan, be nice to me, it’s _really_ hard.” He reaches a hand up, carding and petting through Mika’s unruly hair, urging his mouth down. He’s hard enough that most of his mental processes are reduced to figuring out how to get some kind of friction against his dick. It’s been a while since someone was nice enough to return the favor.

 

The hand in his hair seals the deal, and makes him even more eager, and a lot less nervous when he finally lets his lips drag against the head of Arashi’s cock. The heady, bitter taste makes him suck in a sharp breath, and Mika eagerly parts his lips, letting the head of Arashi’s cock slide further against his tongue. 

 

Arashi _is_ really hard, and it feels a lot bigger in his mouth than it actually looks, but that doesn’t stop Mika from sucking him down further. He groans in the back of his throat, his eyes lidding as he licks and sucks, one hand pushing his hair behind his ear as he bends down low over Arashi’s cock, needing the taste of him on his tongue. 

 

“Oh, shit,” Arashi breathes, head rolling back on his neck until all he sees are the glow-in-the-dark stars and clouds glued to his ceiling. It’s been a while since anyone has been cool enough to fool around with him, and he’s so hard he’s dripping freely, coating Mika’s tongue with every little jerk of his hips. Mika’s mouth is hot and wet and glorious, and Arashi can’t do anything but whimper, urging him instinctively down with every tug of his hand in that soft dark hair. “Ah, shit, such a good boy, Mika-chan, you seriously look so pretty like that...”

 

It’s not a stretch to imagine Shu saying something really similar to that to him, and Mika whimpers, his eyes fluttering as the hand in his hair pushes his head further down. Arashi definitely didn’t swallow this much of him, and used his hand a lot more, but Mika doesn’t mind in the slightest--it just makes him work harder to swallow, to pant out ragged breaths through his nose when Arashi’s cock slides long and hard against his tongue and he chokes, just for a second, only a centimeter from swallowing him all down as his fingers splay over Arashi’s thighs. 

 

“Wh--”

 

Arashi’s eyes fly open, and he groans when Mika slides down so far. His hips jerk up involuntarily, again and again, until his voice drops suddenly low into a growl. “Fuck--you’re so good, Mika-chan, shit, you know just how to treat a man, don’t you? Making me feel so good--” He’s a lot further than he thought he’d be, but who would have thought Mika would be a natural at deep-throating?

 

The words make it even easier, somehow, especially when Arashi’s voice gets so deep and throaty like that. _If Shu praised me like that, I’d probably die,_ Mika dimly thinks, his face flushed and blotchy, and every thrust of Arashi’s cock down his throat makes _him_ hard again, aching whenever he shifts to get at a better angle. 

 

He only pulls back a few centimeters, enough to suck in a ragged, wet breath, before plunging down again, lapping at the head of Arashi’s cock before letting it sink deep down his throat again. He can _feel_ the way it drips whenever he swallows, and thankfully, his whimper is stifled when he thinks about how Shu’s cock would do the same. 

 

Arashi stifles a yelp into the back of his hand with limited success, and then he’s flying, stars exploding behind his eyes, pleasure wracking his body as he frantically thrusts up, humping against Mika’s face as he spills down his throat. “F-fuck, sorry, sorry,” he whimpers, pulling out as soon as his mind starts working again. “You--you surprised me!”

 

Mika tries not to cough, fails, and covers his mouth with his hand to make sure he doesn’t cough anything _up_ , swallowing rapidly. “‘s’fine,” he wheezes, fluttering his other hand helplessly as he rocks back, chest heaving. “Ahh...w-was that any good? I know I did it different than how y’did...”

 

“Um, yeah, because I’m lazy and I hate choking. That was... _way_ better.” Arashi’s voice is dreamy and replete, and he sprawls back, tugging his underwear back up as his cock softens. “Girl, if you can deepthroat _and_ you swallow, you can basically make any man fall in love with you. Pretty sure that’s the rule. Seriously, that’s the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

 

“You’re bein’ too nice, Naru-chan, I’m just used to swallowing stuff,” Mika mumbles as he blushes and flops backwards to pull a pillow over his face again. “Uuuugggh. I just wanna kiss him and maybe one day he’ll make me a pretty dreesss...I don’t think that’s too much to ask...” 

 

“You’d be so pretty in a dress, Mika-chan. When you get good at sewing, you should make me one. I’ll look like an okama, though...you can pull it off, I bet.”

 

“No way, you’d be super pretty, Naru-chan.” Mika heaves a sigh as he rolls onto his stomach, kicking his feet. “I’m never gonna be as good as him, but I’m _tryin’_ ,” he laments. “Maybe if I ask him for help, he’ll get out of this funk faster...he’d make a dress that would look really good on you, he’s the best at that kinda thing.” 

 

“You can try? I dunno. He likes sewing, right? What else does he like? All I know about him is that he likes dolls and making clothes and rejected me from Valkyrie last year,” Arashi laughs. “So I guess I had a little bit of a grudge at first, but you make him sound so sweet.”

 

Mika lifts his head from his pillow, gawking at Arashi. “He rejected _you?_ Huh, what th’ hell.” With a shrug, he flops facedown again. “He likes sewing and dolls and croissants and writin’ and bein’ perfect. But he _is_ really sweet, he’s jus’...he’s real sensitive, people don’t get it. Ahh, darn it, what time is it? I need to head to the bakery before I go home and pick him up somethin’ to eat or he just _won’t._ ” 

 

Arashi cranes around to look at the clock. “Uhh, just past eight. Hey, Mika-chan...don’t you think you should maybe contact his family? If he’s not eating, that’s probably something they should know about, right?”

 

“It’s not anythin’ new,” Mika wearily says, slowly heaving himself up into a sitting position again. “He’s always like that. If I called ‘em, they’d probably make me leave, and stick him in a hospital, and he’d die, he really would.” 

 

Arashi whistles low through his teeth. “Gross. I guess you two can bond over shitty family, huh? Here, take my train pass. Give it back to me at school tomorrow. If you walk, you’ll be home _really_ late.”

 

Mika breathes a long sigh of relief, and lurches over to press a firm kiss to Arashi’s cheek. “Thank y’ _so_ much, Naru-chan. You’re really the best. W...we can do this again, if you want?” he hopefully adds as he heaves himself to his feet. 

 

“Any time, Mika-chan.” Arashi hands over the card, clipped to his school bag, and grabs Mika in a quick squeeze. “You’d better not be weird about this. I think you’re great, you know?”

 

“...Why would I be weird?” Mika asks, blinking back at him, honestly confused as he rocks back onto his heels. “We both like other guys, I jus’ like hangin’ out with you and think you’re really pretty.” 

 

“Well, I am really pretty. And so are you.” Arashi shrugs. “Some guys get weird when you’ve had your dick in their mouth. Just don’t stop talking to me, and we’ll be fine!”

 

Mika shakes his head vehemently. “You’re my best friend, I’m not gonna stop talkin’ t’you,” he firmly says, giving Arashi another quick hug before scooping up his bag and waving to Nyaanko, who has fallen asleep, sprawled out on Arashi’s desk. “Bye, Nyaanko-chan, Naru-chan!”

 

Having a train pass definitely is useful, especially when he’s suddenly in a hurry to not only get home, but to run by the bakery _just_ in time. There aren’t a lot of croissants left, but he managed to snag the last two that look anywhere near fresh, and hurries home, worrying the whole while that he turns his key in the lock that he’s going to _somehow_ stumble upon Shu’s dead body. 

 

“Oshi-san,” he calls, locking the door behind himself as he toes his shoes off. “Oshi-san, I’m home! Sorry ‘m real late, but I wanted to practice extra and Naru-chan helped me out...”

 

It’s like talking into an empty cave, but that’s fine. Quietly making his way to Shu’s room is the next step, and cracking open the door with croissants in hand usually at least doesn’t make him get a pillow thrown at him. “I got you somethin’ from the bakery, if you’re hungry at all...” 

 

For the first time in a few weeks, Shu is sitting up. More surprisingly, he’s sewing, or at least considering it, with tiny pattern pieces laid out on the bed and a threaded needle in hand. Shu looks up, eyes red-rimmed and sunken, and looks back down at the bed. 

 

Then, in a high-pitched, feminine voice, he giggles. “Mika-chan,” he sing-songs, lips just barely moving. “Ah, it’s good you went out a little bit. You were going to rot away like a mushroom in the dark! Growing boys need sunlight, you know.”

 

_Mika-chan?_ Ah. That’s new. Mika hesitates, just for a second, and then shuts the bedroom door behind himself with a smile. “Y-yeah, Naru-chan was nice enough to spend time with me. Umm, aren’t you hungry?” he presses again, dropping down to sit onto the edge of the bed. “If you’re gonna sew, you’ve gotta eat to keep your strength up.” 

 

“Shu-kun is really hungry, but he doesn’t want to admit it. Ah, he was worried about you, Mika-chan.”

 

Shu picks up a few of the pieces, carefully fitting them together before he starts to sew. “Don’t be silly,” he says, voice low and familiar. “I wasn’t worried.”

 

Mika pauses for a moment, a frown on his lips as he tries not to stare too analytically at Shu, but...it’s hard not to, when he’s suddenly acting like this. “...s’okay, Oshi-san, I’ll put some tea on,” he settles upon, leaving the croissants on the bed next to Shu as he climbs to his feet. “That’s something, yeah? Oh, Mado-nee’s in here now?” The doll has his spot on the bed, actually, but he doesn’t remark upon that part. “Well, good, she can keep you company when you sew, too.”

 

“I’m the company he can tolerate right now. Well, besides you, Mika-chan. Ah, Shu-kun made you dinner, so please eat lots and feel better!”

 

“I was making dinner for myself, Mademoiselle. But...” Shu looks up, and something in his haunted expression softens, just slightly. “If you want some, there’s plenty left.”

 

_So it’s like that._ Mika tries not to let his head tilt entirely sideways as he tries to wrap his mind about it, but again, he doesn’t remark upon it. _If I act like it’s weird, he might just go back to curling up in bed and trying to die, which I really, really don’t want._ “So long as y’ate your fill first, Oshi-san,” he says. “I’ll be right back once the tea is done, okay?”

 

Mika’s hand shake when he puts the water kettle on in the kitchen, and he cleans up Shu’s attempt at dinner. _Plenty left--more like he didn’t eat a bite._ Mika gnaws on his lower lip worriedly as he puts the dishes away, cleans out the rice cooker, and waits for the water to boil for tea. _Maybe I really should call his parents now--no, no, they’ll really freak out, he’s just..._

 

The kettle starts to whistle, and Mika takes it off the heat before it can get any louder, pouring a generous cup of tea for Shu because maybe he can at _least_ survive on that. 

 

“Ah, doin’ the dishes reminded me, Oshi-san!” he cheerfully hums as he slips back into Shu’s bedroom, placing the cup of tea next to his side of the bed. “I’ve been gettin’ a _lot_ of school credit doin’ jobs and stuff--we should be able to start bookin’ practice rooms again. Or we can practice here, and save up the cash for the stages instead. Y’know, as soon as you feel better.” 

 

“Does that mean you’ve been neglecting practice while I’ve been ill, Kagehira?” Shu asks sharply, moving on to the next doll garment. The stitches are as perfectly even as ever, but he pauses every few, and a tremor goes through his hands. “You’ll never get into another unit like that. Fetch me Mademoiselle, I’ve made her a skirt.”

 

“Shu-kun makes pretty clothes,” he continues in that high, girly voice. “Mika-chan, you’ve been working very hard, haven’t you? If it hadn’t been for you, Shu-kun probably would have died. He cares about you a lot, you know?”

 

Shu bends over his work, but doesn’t correct the doll voice.

 

Mika wavers, just for a moment, before silently moving to scoop up Mademoiselle and sit her closer to Shu. “I haven’t been neglectin’ practice, Oshi-san,” he quietly says, plopping down onto the edge of the bed. “I’ve been makin’ sure to do the same stuff we used to, just as much, and the stuff I used to do on my own, too. Mostly, I jus’ skip out on doin’ my homework, ‘cuz I don’t care about that, anyway.” His legs swing slowly, thumping against the side of the bed. “I don’t want to get into another unit. I want to stay in Valkyrie.” 

 

Shu flinches at the word. “Valkyrie...you still believe in something like that? You’d do better elsewhere. Even if your singing and dancing aren’t sufficient for some things, they’re enough to make you the star of any other unit. You...you should go. Like Nito.”

 

“Mika-chan...has Nito-chan said anything to you about Shu-kun at school? He’s scared to ask, but you can tell me. I’m going to take care of him now.”

 

Mika’s eyes flicker from Shu, then to the doll, and then back again. “...Nazuna-nii doesn’t talk to me,” he quietly admits, drawing a knee up to his chest. “But that’s okay. He’s workin’ through his own stuff, I guess.” He huffs out a soft breath. “I don’t care about bein’ the star of another unit, Oshi-san. I’d rather be dragged through the mud with you if it means I get to stay with you, in Valkyrie.” 

 

“That’s the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard,” Shu snaps. A moment later, his fingers brush a tear off the back of his hand, followed by another. “You’re doing nothing but causing me trouble. You should leave immediately.”

 

“Mika-chan...you’re the reason Shu-kun got up today, you know? He doesn’t want you to give up on him.”

 

“That isn’t it at all, troublesome doll!”

 

“Shu-kun isn’t very good at being honest with himself right now, but you won’t leave him, right? You’ve always been so nice to me, calling me Mado-nee. I can rely on you, right, Mika-chan?”

 

“Ah...” _I am not qualified for this, I am so not qualified for this and I’m probably the reason he’s so fucked up_. Mika swallows hard, then forces himself to nod. “Mm. Yeah. Y-you can, Mado-nee. I’m not gonna leave him, no matter what.” Mika leans forward, tilting his head to try and get a glimpse of Shu’s face. “I mean it, Oshi-san. Even if it’s just the two of us, we’re still Valkyrie, right? We’re the best, right?” 

 

Shu moves suddenly, dropping his needle and burying his face in Mika’s shoulder, clinging to him with trembling hands clenched so tight the knuckles turn white. His shoulders quake, hot tears soak Mika’s shoulder, but he doesn’t make a noise for long minutes, until finally, he sucks in a ragged breath. “We’re...still Valkyrie. We’re still Valkyrie. It’s--it’s my fault, I--I thought that was affection, to drive you so hard, but--he _hates_ me, he--you should leave, you deserve better, you--I’m not--”

 

For a split second, Mika freezes, unsure of how to react, unsure of _everything_ \--because the last thing he wanted to do was make Shu _cry_ , but...but maybe it’s better like this? It’s more than he’s gotten out of him for weeks, more than he ever thought he _could_ get out of Shu, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make his chest ache.

 

“....O-oshi-san...” Mika huffs out a ragged breath, his arms coming up to cling to Shu’s back, hauling him closer. “It’s not your fault,” he whispers. “‘s not, and I don’t blame you, or Nazuna-nii. And I don’t hate you. I _promise_ I’m not gonna leave, okay? Y...you and Mado-nee both, you can count on me.” 

 

Shu’s face is buried, smashed against Mika’s shoulder so much that his words are almost intelligible, muffled and mangled against the fabric. There’s a long, hiccupping breath, then a whisper of, “D-don’t deserve you.”

 

“Oshi-san—“ This isn’t like the Shu that Mika has ever seen. Even over the past few weeks, when Shu has been refusing to talk, refusing to leave his bed, barely agreeing to _live_ , he hasn’t been anything like this. Mika isn’t sure if it’s a good thing or not, but at least…at least it’s _something_  new, something different, _anything_  different. “Oshi-san,” he quietly says, burying his face down into Shu’s hair when tears prick into his own eyes. “I think y’deserve everythin’ you want. So if y’want me to stay with you…then that’s what you’ll get. We just gotta keep workin’ hard, okay?” 

 

There’s a huge wet sniff, and then Shu is pulling away, away to pull the blankets over his head. “Fine. I’ll...if I’m up to it. I’ll come to school tomorrow. Y-you’d better not be slacking off.” There’s a compulsion to insult Mika, to call him useless, a failure, a defect, but that sounds exhausting right now when his body is so weak and his mind is worse. “Tomorrow,” he repeats, more firmly this time. “Can’t stop going. That would mean Tenshouin is winning.”

 

Mika shakes his head firmly. “I’m not slackin’ off, I promise,” he quickly says, smoothing the blankets around Shu in a nervous hurry, all sorts of in disbelief at his success-apparent. “I’ve been practicin’ lots, as much as I can! Ahh, Oshi-san, please eat somethin’, you’ve gotta feel good enough to get up in the mornin’, and cryin’ makes people all shaky. I know, I do it a lot.” 

 

“Fine! You troublesome creature! And I wasn’t crying!” Shu scrubs his face, shoving his way out of the bed, long ruffled nightshirt falling around his knees. “And you can stop plying me with croissants every morning and night. If you’re spending the ragged remnants of Valkyrie’s budget at the bakery, I’ll be entirely displeased.” He wavers dangerously on his feet for a moment, then catches himself, and flaps a hand. “Bring Mademoiselle. She wants to watch me eat.”

 

“Of course I do, Shu-kun! I haven’t seen it for weeks!”

 

“I didn’t spend any of Valkyrie’s budget, I swear.” Mika dives to scoop Mademoiselle up, carrying her after Shu and hovering near his side, just in case Shu collapses. “I’ve been savin’ all of that up, don’t worry. Ah, if you don’t wanna get up, I can bring it to you in bed, I don’t mind waitin’ on you…” 

 

“And who is going to cook it, fool? The North Wind? The North Wind can’t cook, Kagehira. It’s a wind!”

 

Spewing nonsense helps get him back to his feet, at least, and Kagehira is a calming presence, giving him something harmless to rail against that so far hasn’t run away. Maybe it’s a little early to think that he never will, but so far...


End file.
